Why “I’m Fine” Is the Most Overused Lie of Our Generation
“Strong doesn’t mean healed. Sometimes it just means you learned how to carry it quietly.”— Nichole Banks
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Why “I’m Fine” Is the Most Overused Lie of Our Generation
Let’s just say it.
If Gen-X women had a family crest, it would say:
“I’m fine.”
In cursive.
With a cigarette burn on the corner.
And a mixtape playing softly in the background.
We are the generation that:
Drank from the hose.
Let ourselves in after school.
Watched our parents “handle things” without ever talking about feelings.
Learned very early that emotions were… inconvenient.
So when something hurt?
We powered through.
When something broke?
We kept moving.
When our marriages fell apart?
We made a grocery list.
And when someone asked how we were doing?
We said the words automatically:
“I’m fine.”
The High-Functioning Grief Nobody Talks About
Here’s the thing about divorce, heartbreak, betrayal, or starting over in your 40s and 50s:
It doesn’t always look dramatic.
It looks like:
Packing lunches while your chest feels hollow.
Answering emails with red eyes.
Smiling at school pickup.
Showing up to work meetings with a tight throat and perfect lipstick.
You are functioning.
You are responsible.
You are holding it together.
And because you’re functioning, everyone assumes you’re fine.
But high-functioning grief is sneaky.
It doesn’t collapse you.
It exhausts you.
It’s the kind of grief where you:
Can’t sleep but still get up at 6.
Feel lonely in a room full of people.
Replay conversations while unloading the dishwasher.
Wonder why you feel “off” even when nothing is actively wrong.
And when someone says, “How are you really?”
You smile and say, “I’m good.”
Because you don’t even know where to start.
We Were Taught to Keep Going
Gen-X women were raised on independence.
We didn’t get participation trophies.
We got “figure it out.”
We didn’t get emotional processing.
We got “don’t make a scene.”
So we became:
Capable.
Self-sufficient.
Resilient.
Emotionally quiet.
But resilience without release turns into pressure.
And pressure doesn’t disappear.
It leaks.
It shows up as:
Irritability.
Emotional numbness.
Overworking.
Over-explaining.
Over-giving.
It shows up in your body.
In your jaw.
In your shoulders.
In your nervous system that hasn’t fully exhaled in years.
“I’m fine” isn’t a lie because you’re dishonest.
It’s a lie because you were never taught another option.
Survival Mode Looks Like Strength
After divorce, survival mode can feel empowering at first.
You handle the paperwork.
You handle the logistics.
You handle the kids.
You handle the finances.
You become the CEO of your own crisis.
And everyone applauds you for being strong.
But survival mode is not the same thing as healing.
Survival mode says:
“Don’t fall apart.”
Healing says:
“You’re allowed to.”
And when you’ve spent decades being the strong one, falling apart feels like failure.
So you say:
“I’m fine.”
Even when you’re:
Lonely.
Lost.
Low-key livid.
Or just tired of being the adult in every room.
The Cost of “Fine”
Let’s talk about what “fine” actually costs.
It costs intimacy.
When you say “I’m fine,” you close the door before someone can step inside.
It costs connection.
Because vulnerability feels risky when you’ve been self-sufficient your whole life.
It costs energy.
Because pretending requires effort.
And over time, “fine” becomes a habit.
You stop checking in with yourself.
You stop asking what you actually feel.
You stop admitting when something hurts.
Not because you’re weak.
But because you’re efficient.
What You Might Actually Be Feeling
Let’s translate “I’m fine” into what it often really means.
“I’m fine” might mean:
I’m overwhelmed.
I’m lonely.
I’m scared to start over.
I don’t trust myself yet.
I miss parts of my old life, even if it wasn’t healthy.
I’m tired of carrying everything.
I don’t know who I am now.
And here’s the wild part:
None of those things make you broken.
They make you human.
Why This Generation Struggles to Say the Truth
We are the “I’ll handle it” generation.
We learned early that:
Crying made people uncomfortable.
Anger made us “too much.”
Needing support meant we were weak.
So we adapted.
We became calm.
Competent.
Contained.
But here’s the plot twist:
Contained doesn’t mean healed.
It just means controlled.
And control is exhausting.
The Smallest, Bravest Shift
What if instead of “I’m fine,” you tried something softer?
Not dramatic.
Not messy.
Just honest.
What if you said:
“I’ve been better.”
“I’m still figuring it out.”
“It’s been heavier than I expected.”
“I’m okay… but it’s a lot.”
That’s it.
No emotional breakdown required.
Just a crack in the armor.
Healing doesn’t start with a breakthrough.
It starts with truth.
You Don’t Have to Be the Strong One All the Time
There is something sacred about admitting:
“This is hard.”
Not to the world.
But to yourself.
When you stop forcing “fine,” you create space for:
Real connection.
Real boundaries.
Real self-trust.
Real love.
And here’s the beautiful irony:
The moment you stop pretending you’re fine is the moment you actually start becoming steady.
Not dramatic.
Not chaotic.
Steady.
Because you’re not suppressing anymore.
You’re processing.
If This Hit a Little Too Close to Home
If you felt yourself nodding through this, I want you to know something:
You are not weak for struggling.
You are not dramatic for feeling deeply.
You are not behind.
You are healing in a way our generation was never taught to.
And that takes courage.
If you’re ready to go deeper into this conversation — into the stuff we don’t say out loud — I recorded a podcast episode just for you.
🎙️ Let’s talk about the stuff we never say out loud.
(You can listen right here.)
We’ll unpack survival mode, emotional honesty, and how to stop carrying everything alone.
You don’t have to announce to the world that you’re not fine.
But you do deserve a space where you don’t have to pretend.
And that space?
It starts here.
~Nichole Banks💛
A Soft Invitation
If this blog felt a little too familiar…
If you recognized yourself in the over-explaining, the people-pleasing, the quiet resentment…
You’re not broken.
You were just never taught how to set boundaries in a way that feels calm, clear, and confident.
That’s exactly why I created the Boundaries 101 Coaching Pods—a small, supportive space where we work on real-life scripts, real conversations, and real situations together.
No fluff.
No “just be confident” advice.
Just practical tools and honest support.
If you’d like to be the first to know when the next pod opens, you can join the waitlist below.
Your peace is worth protecting.
And this could be the season you finally learn how.
👉 Join the Boundaries 101 Coaching Pod Waitlist
~Nichole Banks💛
💛 Ready for Your Next Step?
You don’t have to figure this out alone.
Pick the door that feels right for you.
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this is where that changes.
The Boundaries 101 Coaching Pods are small-group, high-support spaces where you’ll learn how to protect your time, energy, and peace — without guilt.
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