Why It’s Okay to Not Be Okay Sometimes

There was a time when I thought being strong meant being happy all the time.

I wore smiles like armor. I answered “I’m fine” before anyone could even finish asking how I was. I filled my days with productivity and people and noise—anything to avoid sitting in stillness with how I really felt.

Because in my mind, not being okay meant I was failing at life.

It took falling apart in the quietest, most unexpected way to realize that not being okay is part of being human. And the more we fight it, the more we push ourselves deeper into isolation and shame.

So this is my story—real, raw, and honest. Not because I’ve figured everything out, but because I’m finally learning that healing begins when we stop pretending everything’s fine.

When the Weight Becomes Too Much

It started with small things. Forgetting appointments. Ignoring texts. Losing interest in things I used to love. I told myself I was just tired. Burned out. That I needed a good night’s sleep or a weekend away and I’d bounce back.

But I didn’t bounce back.

The exhaustion followed me like a shadow. I’d wake up already tired. I’d sit at my desk staring at the screen, barely functioning. I cried in grocery store parking lots and felt guilty about it, like I had no right to be sad when others had it worse.

I looked okay on the outside. That was the scariest part.

The Pressure to “Keep It Together”

We live in a world that rewards strength and smiles. We praise those who “keep pushing” and admire people who “never give up.” But we rarely talk about the quiet kind of bravery it takes to admit: I’m not okay right now.

I was afraid to say it. Afraid of being a burden. Afraid of seeming weak. Afraid people would look at me differently or not understand.

So I kept it inside.

Until I couldn’t.

The Breaking Point

One night, I came home after what looked like a “normal day” and just sat on my bathroom floor, completely overwhelmed. I didn’t even cry. I just sat there, feeling like I had nothing left to give.

It wasn’t a dramatic breakdown. It was more like a slow leak—of joy, of energy, of connection.

That night, I finally said out loud to myself: I’m not okay.

And strangely, something in me relaxed.

Not because things were magically better—but because I had stopped lying to myself.

The Beginning of Something Real

The next morning, I didn’t try to “fix” myself. I didn’t make a checklist or download a self-help book. I just promised myself one thing:

I’ll start being honest—with myself and the people who love me.

That day, I texted a close friend and said, “Hey, I know I’ve seemed distant. I’ve been having a hard time. I just wanted you to know.”

She replied within minutes: “Thank you for telling me. I’m here. Always.”

That message broke me open. Because I realized how much love I had been pushing away by pretending I didn’t need any.

Giving Myself Permission

Little by little, I started giving myself permission:

Permission to rest without guilt

Permission to say no without explaining

Permission to cry when I needed to

Permission to not have it all together

I began to see that being “not okay” wasn’t a detour—it was a necessary part of the path. The low moments weren’t weakness—they were invitations to grow, to heal, to feel deeply.

I also learned that emotions are like waves—they rise, peak, and pass. And when we stop trying to resist them, they move through us more gently.

What I Want You to Know

If you’re reading this and you’re in a dark place, please hear this:

You are not broken. You are not weak. You are not alone.

It’s okay to not be okay. It doesn’t make you less worthy of love, success, or happiness. It just makes you human.

We don’t always have to be strong. We don’t have to be okay all the time. Life is full of joy and pain, clarity and confusion, highs and lows.

And in those lows, something beautiful happens:

We get to see who we are beneath the noise.

We get to learn how to ask for help.

We get to grow roots.

The Lesson

True strength isn’t pretending to be okay—it’s being real enough to admit when you’re not.

When we allow ourselves to feel our feelings without judgment, we make space for healing.

When we let others see us in our struggle, we invite connection.

When we honor our own rhythms, we find peace.

You don’t have to rush your healing.

You don’t have to be positive all the time.

You just have to be honest—with yourself, and with the people who care.

So if you’re not okay right now, that’s okay.

You won’t stay here forever.

But you’re allowed to be here today.

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Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi