“I’m okay.”
Looking back, I realize how often I have said those words.
I said them when an unexpected message arrived from a client. I said them when several problems piled up at work at the same time. I even said them when an employee carefully studied my face and asked if everything was all right.
“I’m okay.”
It became an automatic answer.
I did the same thing at home.
After spending an exhausting day dealing with work, my family would ask me how my day had been. Most of the time, I simply answered, “It was fine.” I did not want them to worry about me, and I did not want to bring all the complicated problems from the office into our home.
The truth was that I was not always fine.
Even after I came home, the unfinished work continued to circle in my mind. What should I say to the client? What direction should I give my employees? Was the decision I had made really the right one?
My body was at home, but part of my mind was still sitting at my desk in the office.
When you are responsible for a company, it is difficult to admit that you are struggling.
I worried that if my employees saw me shaken, they would become anxious too. If I admitted that I did not have an answer, it felt as if the whole company might lose its direction. So even when I was uncertain, I tried to sound confident. Even when I was afraid, I tried to look calm.
I thought that was what a business owner was supposed to do.
Being the head of a family did not feel very different.
I wanted to be someone my family could depend on. I did not want my children to see their father struggling, and I did not want my worries to become their worries. I believed that if I endured a little more on my own, our home could remain peaceful.
At work, I wore the face of a company owner. At home, I wore the face of a provider.
Then one day, a question came to me.
Where was I able to live simply as myself?
Being responsible for others requires us to swallow more emotions than people may realize. Even when I was angry, I could not react immediately. Even when I was afraid, I could not postpone every decision.
No matter how tired I was, I still had to return to work the following morning. No matter how confused I felt, I still had to give my employees a clear direction.
During those times, I used the words “I’m okay” like a shield.
Once I said I was okay, I did not have to explain anything else. Other people would stop looking too closely, and I would not have to take out the feelings I had worked so hard to hide.
But repeating those words did not make them true.
The emotions I swallowed did not disappear. They gathered quietly inside me and sometimes surfaced at unexpected moments. I became sensitive to small comments. Things I would normally have overlooked began to make me angry. Even an ordinary question from my family could sometimes feel like another burden.
Eventually, I understood that my anger was not caused by one small incident.
It was the exhaustion, worry, responsibility and fear that I had been storing for a long time. They had simply found a moment to come out all at once.
There were days when I came home from work and remained sitting in my car for a while.
I knew that when I walked through the door, I should greet my family warmly. But on those days, I did not have enough energy left to smile. At the same time, I could not return to the office.
Perhaps I simply needed a few quiet minutes in which I did not have to perform any role.
For that short time, I did not want to be a business owner, a provider, a father or a husband. I wanted to be no one other than myself.
After sitting quietly in the car, I eventually went inside and behaved as though everything was fine. But one question remained somewhere in my mind.
Am I really okay?
I once believed that admitting I was struggling was a sign of weakness. I thought that people who were responsible for others should always be able to control their emotions.
Of course, expressing every emotion without restraint is not the answer. Being a business owner does not give me the right to pass my anxiety or frustration on to my employees. Being a provider does not mean I should ask my family to carry the full weight of my worries.
But managing our emotions and pretending that they do not exist are not the same thing.
“Today was difficult.”
“I haven’t found the answer yet.”
“I need some time to think.”
Saying these things does not make me an irresponsible leader. Telling my family that I had a hard day does not make me an inadequate father or husband.
In fact, acknowledging that I am not okay helps me understand what is really troubling me. It also helps me recognize which burdens I truly need to carry alone and which ones I can share with someone else.
Even now, I still say that I am okay quite often.
The difference is that before I say it, I try to ask myself one question.
Am I really okay?
If the answer is no, I try not to hide that truth from myself. Even if I cannot tell someone everything immediately, I can at least acknowledge that I am tired. Sometimes I stop and give myself a little time to think. Sometimes I carefully share a small part of what I am feeling with someone I trust.
For a long time, I wanted to appear strong.
Now, however, I wonder if a strong person is not someone who never shakes, but someone who can recognize when they are shaking. Perhaps real strength is knowing when to lean on someone for a moment—and then finding the courage to stand again.
Did you tell someone, “I’m okay,” today because you did not want them to worry?
Are you swallowing your feelings because you are a leader, a provider, a parent, or simply someone who wants to remain dependable?
If you were having a difficult day, who would be the first person you could speak to honestly?
And if speaking to someone still feels too difficult, perhaps you could begin by admitting the truth to yourself.
“Today was actually a little hard.”
There is nothing wrong with having days when we are not okay.
All of us need permission to be not okay for a little while.
— The Keeper of the Quiet Haven
댓글 남기기