a lesson in fake fine

"How are you doing?"
"I'm fine."
"You're fake fine."
"Yep. I'm fake fine."

The was the introductory banter my friend, Emma, and I would have on a regular basis during the 18 month direct entry program at Marquette. We both went through some very difficult times during the program and well, they have continued for both of us and we have embraced the term "fake fine" to describe how we are coping.
I have been "fake fine" during many times in my life, I learned the art of "fake fine" at a very young age. I was always the one in my family who would hold it together best--many times this wasn't holding it together at all, but I got very skilled at being "fake fine." The picture of the person who has a tough life or hard times, but the one who appears on the outside to be strong and resilient. The "I don't know how she does it person." That is often times me. I think that it is often times many women. I know that many, many people have mastered the "fake fine." I don't know if that is a good or a bad thing.

Today, I am trying to be "fake fine." Tomorrow, when I return to work, I will try extra hard to be "fake fine." I held it together fairly well when the barista at the coffee shop complained to me that she got pregnant with twins by accident as she was rubbing her belly. (She and I have had some friendly conversation in the past about birth and midwifery--she has several kids and had home births with all of them. She knows about my struggles. She knows about my most recent loss). I just said, "It must be scary." Because I know it must. We all have degrees of comfort and loss in our life, and she really did look scared. And I am sorry that she is scared about her pregnancy. I get it.
I also get that I would carry an alien baby or two in my womb for the gestation of an elephant if I could just get pregnant and get pregnant in the right place in my body.
So, today, I further master the art of "fake fine."
And I am thankful that I have a few good friends in my life who know just when I need them to see through my b.s. and call me identify when my, "I'm fine." Really means, "I'm faking. I'm not at all fine."