How do you stop pretending to be okay?

One notch at a time, with someone who has earned it. That is the whole answer. Not all at once…not with everyone…and not today, if today isn’t the day.

How are you? You get asked that more times a week than anyone could count. There’s an answer loaded before the question even lands: “Good,” “Fine,” “Busy,” “Hanging in there,” “Can’t complain.” We all keep a shelf of them! The one you reach for is out of your mouth before you have checked whether it’s true.

Some weeks it’s even true! Other weeks it’s the thing you say so the conversation can move on. The moving on is the point. The answer is quick because it works. So how does it stop?

Why is hiding it so tiring?

Because the feeling does not go anywhere. You say good, then you spend the rest of the conversation keeping the real answer off your face. Researchers have watched what happens when people hide what they feel. The feeling stays the same size whether it’s shown or not while the body keeps working on it underneath, with the face held still.

So you end up carrying two things, the feeling and the hiding. The hiding is the extra load. That part is what wears you out.

There’s a longer cost too. People who hide what they feel as a habit say they feel less of the good and more of the bad. Their close relationships are worse. None of that means you’re doing it wrong. It does explain why fine gets lonelier the better you get at saying it.

The skills that carry you through a full week, reading a room and smoothing things over, are the same ones that keep fine going after it stopped being true. We get good at keeping the peace…and fine keeps the peace. Being fine for everyone is a lot for one person to carry.

Does everyone get the truer answer?

Nope! The cashier doesn’t need it, and the group chat isn’t the place for it. The relative who turns every answer into advice doesn’t get it either. Some people in your life are not safe to tell. You already know who they are. So the first job isn’t being honest with everyone. It’s choosing who. Most of the choosing is probably done already.

Who has earned it? Well, not whoever asks the most often, or whoever you’ve known the longest. It’s the person who has let you see one of their own bad weeks. Someone who has shown you theirs can hold yours, while a person who only ever shows you good may not know what to do with yours.

Maybe you’re already thinking that saying it would just give the people you love one more weight to hold. That worry is a sign you’ve been doing the carrying for a while. And someone who asks how you are a second time, after you’ve said fine, has opened the door for the real answer.

There is one more kind of person worth telling, even with no history: someone who isn’t counting on you to stay fine. That’s a lot of what a therapist is for.

New in town?

In Cedar Park about one in fifteen people moved in within the last year from another county, state or country. In Leander and Georgetown it’s about one in ten, and in Round Rock about one in eight. If that’s you, no one here knew you before you came. The people who could tell your real answer from your fine one are back wherever you came from.

The people here only know the version you brought with you. So no one here has seen a bad week of yours, and you haven’t seen theirs. That is not a failing or a flaw. It’s geography.

Grew up here? Then the people who have known you longest have been hearing good from you the longest. They might be the hardest ones to tell, because the fine version of you is the only one they’ve met and it’s been years in the making. That doesn’t rule them out. It means the first real answer with them will feel bigger than it is.

Who stays once you’ve said it?

Once one person has heard how you really are, I’d expect relief first, with some loneliness mixed in. Relief because the carrying stops for a minute. Loneliness because you will notice how long you carried it by yourself. Both are normal.

Later, as you let more people past good, some will drift when you stop being easy and a few will come closer. I’d guess those few were doing the same thing and waiting for someone to go first. No one finds out which is which until it’s been said.

One notch down

So, if you’re ready to try it, here’s a small one. The next time someone who has earned it asks how you are, skip good and give the answer one notch under it: “Kind of a mess lately.” “Not great, actually.” “Pretty worn out.” That is it, just the one step and none of the rest yet.

What if they ask a follow-up? Then give them the next notch, or leave it there. Both count! And if you cry a little partway through, that’s okay.

If no one asks how you are, go first: “This week’s been a lot. How’s yours been?” Going first is the same step, with the door opened from your side. You can even tell them you’re bad at this. That’s a step too.

You don’t go from good to all of it in one go. None of us learns this in one conversation.

Do you have to wait until it’s bad?

No. The time to talk to someone is when how your life looks and how it feels have come apart: life looks fine, you say fine, and you haven’t felt fine in a while. Nothing has to break first, and no one needs you to explain why you’re here.

Maybe you’ve been handing everyone good while some part of you keeps waiting for one of them to see through it. That counts too. If the pretending has been working and you still aren’t okay under it, read the post on getting by without getting better. The How I work page says what a first session is like.

And if it’s me you tell?

I see women face to face in Cedar Park. For anyone else in Texas, it’s online. If you’d like to talk before anything else, there’s a free call of about a quarter of an hour, and I’m on the phone myself. A short version of your week is plenty for that call. We go from there.

If you’d rather write, your message comes straight to me. I answer it inside two days, usually inside one.

Who, not how

You have the how now: one notch, going first, saying you’re bad at this. What is left is who. One person who has earned it is ENOUGH to begin with. Everyone else can keep hearing good for a while.

If tonight is worse than a bad week

This page is for a bad week, and nothing on it has to happen tonight. A bad night is different. 988 is the crisis line. It answers a call or a text at any hour, with a counselor on the other end. 911 is for danger right now, or a medical emergency. Both numbers are on my contact page. Tonight, those come before me.

When you’re ready, request a time or write to me.

On solid ground,

Acelli