The Hidden Cost of Faking You're Okay

What Happens When You Say You're Fine (But You're Not)

You tell someone you’re fine… but inside, you’re not.
You smiled at Thanksgiving dinner… but cried in the bathroom five minutes later.
You laughed at a friend’s joke… then felt sick with guilt for feeling anything good.

If this sounds like you, I want you to know: you're not doing it wrong. You're grieving.

The Grief No One Sees

After my daughters were stillborn at 32 weeks, I found myself sitting at my mother-in-law’s table two weeks later, pretending to be okay. I smiled. I made small talk. I even helped clean up. And afterward, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.

No one said my daughters’ names. No one brought them up.
And it hurt more than I ever expected.
But the truth is, I had made it that way. I didn’t bring them up either.
I had pretended… so they pretended too.

We do this a lot. Especially around the holidays. We tell people we’re “doing okay” because we want to be okay. We want people to believe we’re strong. We don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. But the cost of pretending is high.

The Pressure to Perform Grief

There’s a big disconnect between what we say and what we feel.
People see us show up for work or dinner or a baby shower — and they think we’re okay. But they don’t see the part where we cried in the shower, wiped our eyes in the car, or held our breath in the grocery store so we wouldn’t break down in front of the diapers.

Eventually, people stop asking.
And we feel more alone than ever.
The pretending becomes a performance, and the performance becomes exhausting.

You might feel:

• Drained from holding it together all day

• Resentful that no one checks in anymore

• Disoriented, unsure of who you even are now

• Guilty for still grieving — or for not grieving the “right” way

Why We Pretend

We tell ourselves:

• I don’t want to make others uncomfortable

• I want to prove I’m strong

• If I fall apart, I’ll never get back up

• People will think I should be over this by now

These thoughts are common — and they come from love, fear, and a desperate desire to feel some kind of control. But pretending you’re fine doesn’t protect you. It just pushes people away and increases your isolation.

What If You Stopped Pretending?

I’m not saying you have to fall apart at the grocery store or tell every stranger your story. I’m just saying… what if you gave yourself permission to be honest with the people you trust?

Try saying:

• “Today’s a hard day.”

• “I’m not ready to talk about it, but I’m not feeling great.”

• “I just need someone to sit with me right now.”

Letting someone in doesn’t mean you're weak. It means you're honoring your truth — and your baby.

Start Small, But Start

After that first holiday, I finally told my sister how I really felt.
She didn’t know.
She thought I was doing “so well.”

The truth opened the door for connection. And that’s what we all need.
We need space to be real. We need space to not be okay. And we need safe people who can sit in that space with us.

If you don’t have those people yet, I want to invite you to find them.
The Always Loved Club is a beautiful space for that — a community where every mom understands what you’re carrying.

You Deserve to Tell the Truth

Pretending takes so much energy.
Being honest feels scary at first — but it can also bring relief.
Your grief is not too much. Your love is not too loud.
And your baby is always worth remembering, even on the hard days.

Let this holiday season be a little different.
Start with one moment of honesty.
You don’t have to be fine. You just have to be real.

For more support, register for my FREE workshop Here