Mindset
“Sometimes it’s hard to look at a flower, when your dying inside.”
― Anthony Liccione
I remember watching The Italian Job years ago and hearing a line that stuck with me. One of the characters describes someone as FINE, and acronym for: F-reaked Out, I-nsecure, N-eurotic, and E-motional.
It always made me smile. But over time, it’s made me think.
How often do we answer the question, “How are you?” with “I’m fine”?
And how often are we anything but?
How often are we carrying something heavy, something uncertain, something quietly difficult… and still choose “I’m fine” because anything beyond that feels like opening a door we’re not sure we want to walk through?
If we’re honest, most of us don’t ask “How are you?” expecting a real answer. It’s a social entry point. A brief acknowledgment as we pass each other in the flow of life. Even when the moment has potential for something deeper, it can feel like the wrong place to unpack what’s really going on.
And even if we did… what are we hoping for?
Most people can’t solve what we’re dealing with. And often, we’re not even looking for solutions. We just want to be seen. Acknowledged. Understood, without being fixed.
This has been on my mind more than usual lately because it’s close to home.
Business has been hard. Not just challenging, but disheartening at times. It’s not where I thought it would be at this stage of my life, and that reality has weight.
So recently, when people have asked how I’m doing, I’ve found myself saying it.
“I’m fine.”
But I’m not fine. I’ve been frustrated. Uncertain. At times, discouraged.
And I know I’m not alone in that.
There’s a broader sense right now that things feel unsettled. The world moves fast, but not always forward. The economy shifts, attention is fragmented, and consistency feels harder to find than ever. Running a business, especially in a space like education, demands constant adaptation. The goalposts don’t just move, they disappear and reappear somewhere else entirely.
We’re living in a digital world that evolves at a pace our human systems weren’t built for. We have more tools than ever, more access, more information. And yet, in many ways, we feel less grounded, less certain, less clear.
It creates a quiet tension.
Because everyone is dealing with it.
Everyone is “fine.”
But underneath that, many are FINE.
Struggling in their own way. Carrying their own version of uncertainty. Trying to be strong for others while not always feeling strong themselves.
I can only speak from my own lens, but I do think there’s an added layer for men. We are wired, and in many ways conditioned, to solve problems. To fix. To move things forward. It’s part of what drives us.
But it also creates a barrier.
Because when someone shares something difficult, the instinct is to offer a solution. And when we’re the ones struggling, we anticipate that response. So instead of opening up, we stay quiet. We keep it to ourselves.
We remain “fine.”
Not because we are, but because it feels easier than navigating what might come next.
And yet, this is why the entire world of self-help, performance, and personal development continues to grow. Everyone is searching. Everyone is trying to make sense of what they’re feeling and how to move through it.
But there isn’t a perfect formula.
There isn’t a single answer that resolves the complexity of being human in a world that feels increasingly uncertain.
Mental health, in many ways, is the challenge of our time. And despite all our advancements, we continue to build environments that test it.
So what do we do?
I don’t have a perfect answer.
But I do believe this: we need more spaces, and more people, who allow others to simply be heard without expectation. Without judgment. Without immediately trying to fix.
A place to land.
And maybe just as important, we need to allow that for ourselves. To acknowledge when we’re not fine, even if we don’t have a solution. Even if nothing changes right away.
I didn’t write this to invite responses or reassurance.
I wrote it because it’s true for me right now.
And if it resonates with you in any way, I hope it reminds you of something simple but important:
You’re not alone.
And even if you feel FINE at times… it won’t always be that way.
Better days, clearer moments, and steadier ground have a way of returning.
