For a long time, I treated being “okay” as something I had to perform. I knew how to act fine even when I wasn’t. I could smile at the right moments, give short answers to avoid follow-up questions, and present myself as someone who was functioning normally. Saying “I’m okay” became a habit, automatic and rehearsed, because it allowed me to skip conversations I didn’t have the energy for.
I did this for years. It wasn’t because I enjoyed hiding my feelings, but because I believed that being strong meant keeping everything inside. I grew used to carrying emotional weight quietly. I convinced myself that admitting I needed help would make me sound dramatic or weak. So I kept the harder parts of my life behind a calm expression.
The truth was different. There were days when I felt overwhelmed, but I acted like everything was under control. There were nights when I lay awake staring at the ceiling because my thoughts wouldn’t settle. I would scroll through my phone wanting to message someone, but the idea of explaining made me close the app. It always felt easier to pretend I had it handled.
But pretending only works for so long. Eventually, it becomes its own kind of exhaustion.
My breaking point wasn’t a dramatic moment. It happened during something ordinary, washing dishes after a long day. I remember the warm water running and the quiet of the room, and then suddenly feeling this heavy pressure in my chest. It wasn’t sadness exactly; it was the realization that I was tired of acting strong. Tired of carrying everything alone. Tired of the constant performance.
That moment forced me to slow down. It made me see how much effort I had put into hiding my feelings. I wasn’t just tired from life, I was tired from pretending.
After that, I started making small changes. Instead of automatically saying I was fine, I tried being honest in simple ways. I told a friend I was overwhelmed. I admitted when I needed rest. I allowed myself to say, “I’m not okay today, but I’m trying.” It wasn’t easy. Being open felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable. But it was real.
And what surprised me was how people responded. No one judged me. No one told me I was being too emotional. Instead, they listened. They understood. Some offered support, others simply stayed present, and that alone made a difference.
I realized that the world didn’t fall apart when I stopped pretending. If anything, I felt lighter. More connected. More myself.
I’m still learning. I still have days when I feel tempted to slip back into being “okay” just to keep things simple. But now I know that honesty, even in small amounts, helps me breathe easier. It helps me feel grounded. It helps me heal.
More: https://peonymagazine.com/wellness/pretending-to-be-okay-emotional-healing/