The Quiet Fear Behind ‘I’m Fine’
- Zoe Molnar

- Jul 11
- 4 min read
Updated: Nov 9

What We Are Really Hiding When We Say We Are Okay
Not every “I’m fine” is a lie — but many are a quiet form of self-protection. This post explores what we hide to stay functional, and how coaching helps soften the habit. |
ZOE MOLNAR | 15/04/2025
You feel like hell, but someone asks how you are.
And before you even think about it, you smile and say:
“I’m fine.” It is what you have always said.
If feels fast, easy, and safe. It is what the moment expects.
….
You finish the conversation and feel… heavy.
Not because anything bad happened — but because nothing true did.
“I’m fine” is a script. It keeps the conversation light. It keeps you from falling apart in the middle of a work meeting, or a dinner table, or a phone call you were too tired to take in the first place.
It does its job.
It keeps you functioning.
It keeps things moving.
But sometimes — behind “I’m fine” — there is a quiet fear.
A fear that if you stop performing okay-ness, you might actually fall apart.
That if you said the truth — even gently — no one would know what to do with it.
That you would be too much, or not enough, or just… left alone with it anyway.
So you keep the mask on.
Sometimes, even with the people who love you.
Even with yourself.
The Psychology Behind “I’m Fine”
Psychologist James Gross defines emotional suppression as a surface-level regulation strategy:
we hold back what we feel to appear composed — to others, and sometimes to ourselves.
It often starts early. We learn which emotions are welcome… and which ones are too much.
So we adjust.
We smile when we are sad.
We go quiet when we are overwhelmed.
We become “easy to be around.”
But this comes at a cost.
Neuroscience research shows that suppressing emotions activates the amygdala — your brain’s fear center — while reducing activity in the prefrontal cortex, which supports emotional clarity and decision-making (Lieberman et al., 2007).
In other words: the more you suppress, the more dysregulated your nervous system becomes —
even when you look calm on the outside.
Over time, this inner mismatch creates emotional dissonance (Grandey, 2000): a growing gap between how you feel and how you present yourself.
This dissonance might lead to real psychological strain:
Reduced emotional clarity and self-awareness
Higher cortisol (stress hormone) levels
Increased risk of anxiety, depression, and burnout (Gross, 1998; Richards & Gross, 2000)
There is also a relational cost.
Studies show that people who chronically suppress emotion are perceived as less warm, less open, and harder to connect with (Butler et al., 2003).
The mask keeps the peace — but it also keeps people out.
Not (always) because you are hiding on purpose, but because no one can meet the real you if they never see you.
When “Fine” Becomes a Pattern
It starts small.
You skip the real answer because it is not the right time.
You hold back because the other person is having a hard day.
You smile because falling apart feels inconvenient — or selfish.
And you do this once. Then again. Then again.
Eventually, “I’m fine” becomes the default. Not just what you say — but what you feel allowed to feel.
Your body gets used to tightening.
Your voice gets used to silence, and your inner world starts to blur.
You stop asking yourself what you need.
You stop trusting your own signals.
You start performing a version of yourself that fits — but no longer feels like you.
What Honesty Makes Possible
Saying “I’m not fine” does not mean breaking down.
It does not mean oversharing.
It simply means not abandoning yourself in the moment that needs you most.
Psychologist Susan David calls this emotional agility — the ability to face your inner experience with honesty and flexibility.
It is not weakness. It is a form of inner leadership, and the first step is always awareness.
Honesty creates movement. Even a small one.
It softens the tension.
It invites care.
It brings you back to yourself and that is where reconnection becomes possible.
Coaching Insight
In coaching, “I’m fine” is never the end of the conversation.
It is the doorway.
Because behind that small, polite phrase lives something else: a sadness you have not named,
a need you have ignored, a dream you have been afraid to say out loud.
And the work is not to “fix” it. The work is to make space for it.
This is where self-compassion begins.
Not in pretending everything is okay, but in telling the truth gently, without shame, and without feeling vulnerable.
As researcher Kristin Neff says:
“With self-compassion, we give ourselves the same kindness and care we’d give to a good friend.”
And often, we have never practiced that before.
Zoe’s Next Steps
A gentle coaching preview inspired by this post
1. Notice the Moment You Say “I’m Fine”
Pause.
Is it true? Is it automatic? Is it covering something?
No need to force anything — just notice.
2. Ask What Was Left Out
Write a quiet sentence:
“I said I’m fine, but actually…”
Let whatever wants to emerge arrive on the page.
This is for you — no one else.
3. Try One Honest Word
Instead of a full confession, try one real thing:
“I’m tired.”
“This feels like a lot.”
“I don’t have the words yet.”
Small truths build real safety.
And honesty grows stronger in small steps.
Need Support?You do not have to do it alone. Coaching is where we make this real—at your pace, in your voice. → |
Further Reading & Citations
Gross, J. J. (1998). The emerging field of emotion regulation: An integrative review.
Gross & Levenson (1993). Emotional suppression: Physiology, expression, and social consequences.
Grandey, A. A. (2000). Emotion regulation in the workplace: A new way to conceptualize emotional labor.
David, S. (2016). Emotional Agility.
Neff, K. D. (2003). Self-compassion: An alternative conceptualization of a healthy attitude toward oneself.


