In Defense of Fine

 

Almost exactly six years ago I posted this blog entry about the practice of asking people "How are you?"

Today I want to focus on the response to that question.:  "I'm fine."

There's been a rash of songs on Christian radio singing the praises of telling the truth--of not saying you're fine when you're not.  Its part of a larger trend of celebrating being real and acknowledging that as R.E.M sang years ago, Everybody Hurts. (Ironically this trend exists right along the Instagram and Facebook sharing that promotes the idea that we are living these perfectly "big" lives).

So why do we say we're fine, when we're not?  Why not just be honest and let people know the truth. Won't it be a relief to just be real?

Maybe.  But also, maybe not.

First for a lot of of people "I'm fine" is an act of privacy.  Many people don't care to share the reality of of how they are with the grocery clerk or the fellow church member or even the work colleague or casual friend.  I, myself, am a pretty open person, but I understand that many people are not.

Second, the truth is that not everybody is ready to handle my "truth."  Not everybody deserves to hear it.  Sometimes hearing something besides "I'm fine" is something that you earn, not something that is owed to you.  Answering with the truth is an act a vulnerability and that vulnerability is not guaranteed to be rewarded with empathy and understanding. So my choice to respond "Not so great" is not taken lightly, and I may be selective in who I say it to, to avoid being hurt further.

The truth is that the truth can be discomfiting to hear. The truth can be awkward. Anyone who's ever been the victim of oversharing can attest that sometimes hearing the unvarnished  truth can leave you feeling unsure what to say and resentful that this person has "unloaded" on you.  Sometimes the whole truth is too much to handle for an untrained person with emotional ties to you.  I am absolutely all about normalizing seeking support for one's mental health. But sometimes the issues we are dealing with cannot be appropriately and effectively addressed by friends and loved ones.

Fine is sometimes an act of courtesy, a gesture of respect as well as distance that says I don't want to burden you because we don't know each other like that. I don't want to place undue expectation on you to "be there" for me in a way that you may not be prepared to be. 

Yet, I understand that our commitment to always saying we're "fine", always putting on a smiling face is problematic and contributes to loneliness and isolation in the suffering that is frankly the lot of every single one of us in life.  Everyone does hurt after all, and that does need to be acknowledged.  Normalizing "not fine" is on balance, a good thing I think.  Yet how do we get it right?

I like to vary my response to communicate more truthfully to someone who is showing care and courtesy by asking how I am, but who has neither the time and/or the relationship with me to "go deep" on the spot. I might say "I'm doing okay" or "Hanging in there" or "Taking it one day at time" when I'm not actually that fine. In my mind at least, these admittedly cliché responses carry more nuance and communicate that while I might not be great, I'm not asking anything of you in this moment. When you ask me how I am and I respond this way, the best thing you can do is add me to your prayer list. You don't need to inquire as to what exactly is going on. If I feel ready to share and believe you are the person to share with, I will reach out. You can also say "Hey, if you ever want to talk or anything let me know."  I'll appreciate that and take mental note of it.  I may or may not follow up on it.  It is vital to note on this point: Do NOT make that offer unless you mean it.  This is not the time for false niceties to make you feel like a good person. The last thing anyone wants is to be a burden to someone who offered to be a listening ear but didn't really mean it.

I have friends who curate an image of perfection, whether that is their intent or not.  I have other friends who are perhaps a bit too "real", sharing TMI, shall we say.  Neither of these approaches really bother me too much but I know there are others that are bit put off by them.

 The people I really appreciate are those give me just enough window into their imperfect lives, their struggles, and their sorrows to reassure me that I'm not alone. That's the kind of person I try to be as well.

And I think it is important that there be someone that we can tell the truth to.  If "I'm fine" is the standard answer to every single person in your life, that might be a problem.  We all need people we can let down our guard with, whether it's a trusted friend, a spouse, a parent, or a counselor.  And most of all "I'm fine" should never be our response to God  (which I think is the point of that Matthew West song I referenced at the beginning of this post. The video for that song is very moving by the way. If you skipped the link I recommend going back and clicking on it. It's worth the watch and has given me a new appreciation for the song that up till now grated on  me a little bit).  There's no point in pretending with God, and He can do a lot more with our honest, true selves no matter how ugly than the same perfect picture we present to everyone else.

When the day is long
and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life,
well hang on
Don’t let yourself go,
’cause everybody cries
and everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong.
Now it’s time to sing along
When your day is night alone,
(hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go,
(hold on)
When you think you’ve had too much of this life, well hang on

‘Cause everybody hurts.
Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts.
Don’t throw your hand.
Oh, no. Don’t throw your hand
If you feel like you’re alone,
no, no, no, you are not alone

If you’re on your own in this life,
the days and nights are long,
When you think you’ve had
too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries.
And everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes.
So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on,
hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts.
You are not alone

                      --R.E.M. "Everybody Hurts"