Worthy Wednesdays

Issue #53 - The Performance Tax of Being "Fine"

💡 "Fine" is the most expensive word in your vocabulary. It costs you connection, energy, and the possibility of conversations that could change everything.

We've all agreed to the same script: "How are you?" "I'm fine. You?" "Good, thanks."

And we move on. Transaction complete. No mess. No depth. No risk.

All of us are participating in a collective performance where nobody tells the truth and everybody stays surface-level safe.

Your "fine" keeps doors closed that could open into unimaginable conversations. It keeps you stuck in transactional exchanges when transformational connection might be one honest answer away.

The performance tax? The gap between how you're actually doing and what you're allowed to say in public slowly drains you of the energy you need to actually deal with what you're going through. Most of that cost is invisibly paid by the ones who have learned to carry the weight of being unshakeable.

Here's what we miss: emotional honesty is relational wealth. When you hoard your truth to keep interactions comfortable, you cut yourself off from the support, understanding, opportunity, and collaboration that only flows through genuine exchange.

1. You soften your truth so it lands gently
You edit your feelings in real time. You choose language that will not unsettle anyone and make your lived reality digestible.

2. You feel lonelier in connection than in solitude
Connection that requires you to perform a curated version of yourself isn’t actually connection. It’s just another space where you have to work.

3. People tell you how strong you are, but nobody asks what it costs
Your capacity to keep showing up, keep performing competence, keep being “fine” gets praised. The fact that you’re barely holding it together never makes it into the conversation.

4. You meet superficiality with superficiality and wonder why nothing deepens
Everyone’s performing fine. Everyone’s keeping it light. And everyone’s starving for something real.

5. You feel resentment in private but composure in public
The gap between those two selves is the tax.

The next time someone asks how you are, pause before reaching for “fine.”

Ask yourself:

“What’s one degree more honest than my usual answer?”

You don’t need to unload everything. You’re simply practicing telling a truer version of your current state.

Try answers like:

• “Honestly, I’m more tired than I want to admit.”
• “I’m in a season of uncertainty and it’s uncomfortable but allowing it to just be.”
• “I’m working through something that doesn’t have easy answers yet, but I know I will get there.”

Watch what happens. Some people won’t know what to do with your honesty. That’s information. Others will drop their performance too and suddenly you’re having an actual conversation.

Your willingness to be real gives others permission to stop performing. And that shift from transaction to genuine exchange is where relational wealth actually lives.
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🔍 Deepen The Inquiry

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• Sherry Turkle – "Reclaiming Conversation"
  On how technology and performative communication have trained us to favour efficiency over depth, and why our capacity for empathy and genuine connection erodes when we replace invested conversations with trivial exchanges.
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• Johann Hari – "Lost Connections" ​
  Explores how disconnection, including from our own honest experiences, is at the root of modern malaise, and why authentic exchange is essential to wellbeing. Listen to him on this podcast, or his audio book.
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🚶‍♀️This Weeks Worthy Move

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Pick one interaction this week where you’d normally default to “fine.”

Practice one degree more honest:

• Answer with texture instead of script.
• Name what you’re actually carrying instead of minimising it.
• Let someone experience your real state without rushing to reassure them.
• Risk an answer that might make the other person pause.
• Stop apologising for being human.

Real connection requires someone to go first. Let it be you.

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🌙 WISDOM WHISPERER​
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Why this whisper? When we perform "fine" to avoid the discomfort of honesty, we don't eliminate the pain of what we're actually experiencing, we just isolate ourselves with it. The cultural agreement to stay surface-level keeps everyone comfortable and everyone alone. The vulnerability of truth is uncomfortable. The loneliness of perpetual performance is unsustainable.