Do you remember when we used to ask how people are doing and we’d all say “fine?”  We didn’t really mean it, but maybe we didn’t have the time or energy to get into sharing or hearing the truth.  

Whatever that truth was then, that may have seemed difficult to share, probably seems simpler than the reality of where we are right now.

We are so conditioned to say “fine,” “okay,” or “no complaints.”  There are a lot of them, but we all have our go-to non-engaging euphemism.  The one that says “I’m not sure I want to tell you and I’m not sure you want to hear it even if I do.”

When people ask me how I’m doing, assuming they are not already moving in the other direction, I try to answer honestly.  Even when it’s uncomfortable.  Lately, it’s been darn uncomfortable. 

I believe – or at least I hope – we are checking in with each other more during this time, and really stopping to listen.  We aren’t running through life, asking the question when we really just mean “hello” because we can’t stop long enough for more than “fine” as a response.

We may be more likely to ask people how they are doing, and take the time to listen, but how much are we sharing?  Feelings can be messy.  And in a global pandemic, where we often don’t know what to do or how to feel, even messier still.

Yet getting past “fine” invites shared experiences.  Invites meaningful engagement.  It creates the space to normalize those feelings and say “not being fine is okay.”

A messy weekend

When asked how I’m doing, my frequent response over the last 2 months has been “I don’t know.”  I felt that a lot over the last few days.  Poked at myself a little, but didn’t push too hard.  I wasn’t sure I was ready to feel whatever was brewing under the surface.

Anyone else a single parent trying to navigate co-parenting and visitation during the pandemic?  Wow.  It’s a lot. Took a lot to get here (mostly) comfortably, but my son left to visit with his dad for 2 weeks.  I wasn’t sure how I felt when I saw him drive away.  Still don’t.

That first day, there were only a few hours between when he left and when I went to bed.  Manageable enough to get through the rest of the day without feeling restless.  The next day, Sunday, loomed before me and I was uncertain what to do.

I did a hard workout the day before, so I decided to go for a five-mile walk as a recovery.  At first I was going to listen to music, but decided to try out a podcast instead.  My first one.

Ironically, I decided on Brené Brown’s “Unlocking Us” podcast about FFTs.  F’in First Times.  It was so appropriate and just what I needed.

During the walk, I listened to Brené talk about the struggle we go through when we encounter a “first time” of something.  I simultaneously started processing what I was going through.

By the time she began talking about the pandemic, and how there are so many firsts we are all experiencing, I was nodding my head so aggressively I thought my headphones would pop out.

New firsts

I consciously thought about my situation with my son.  It was not the first time I put him on a plane or saw him drive away with his dad.  It’s not the first time he’s been 1000 miles away and I’ve worried about him.

It is the first time he’s been 1000 miles away during a global pandemic.  The first time he’s remote learning at his dad’s.  The first time I cannot control where he goes, who he is in contact with, and whether he is practicing safety measures during a health crisis.

There are names for the feelings I was not yet allowing myself to have.  I watched the words run through my mind like a ticker tape.  Terrified.  Uncertain.  Anxious.  Then there’s the others maybe I didn’t want to admit.  Tired.  Relieved. Guilty.  Angry.

I didn’t stop and let any of them bloom.  It’s like they were happening to someone else and if I let myself linger on one of them, then they would hit with a wave I didn’t know how to ride.  

Yet stuffing feelings means they come out somewhere else.  Would writing help?  Talking to someone?  I didn’t expect a podcast to be the thing.

In the podcast, Brené talks about naming that a first is happening.  That it’s scary.  And hard.  It will take more out of us than we expect and that’s okay.

So that’s what I did.  I acknowledged what was happening.  Pictured a box and put all the awareness and potential feelings I wanted to acknowledge but not yet feel in that box.  Didn’t shut it, just put everything in there and put it within easy reach.

This may sound strange, but the idea that it’s there, and I recognize it’s there, means I don’t have to unpack it right now.  It’s ready when I am.  

Maybe it’s in the next 2 weeks.  Maybe it’s later this summer when he goes back for a longer visit.  Or maybe I can just have little feelings along the way, instead of being overwhelmed by big ones, because they’re out in the open and I know they are there.

The layered answer to “How are you?”

If you ask me how I’m doing, I’m likely going to say I don’t know.  On the surface I think I’m doing okay.  During the work day I might be struggling with something job related.  Under the surface, I have a lot of big feelings that are just there, waiting to be recognized when the time is right.  And today might not be that day.

It’s not a clean answer, but these are not clean times.  I hope this is refreshing for folks and it creates the space to have a different kind of conversation.  

So far, this candor has opened up discussions about uncertainty, restlessness, and other feelings under the surface that are hard for folks to name.  So I share the podcast and encourage them to listen to the one on FFT’s.

Per Brené, when we name something, it gives US power.  Naming our feelings can give us power over them so they don’t overpower us.

I’ll be listening to the podcast again and writing down the framework she shares.  It’s not magic, but it was the right thing at the right time.  Given we are all going through a lot of firsts that can feel overwhelming, I’d recommend it.  

Next time someone asks how you’re doing…will you name that emotion or say “fine?”  If you hear fine, will you let it pass or ask “how are you really?”  Let’s name and share our emotions, normalizing the real answers and regaling “fine” to the pre-covid world we came from.