Exploring the Depths of "I’m Fine" in Leadership

"I'm Fine" in Leadership

F.I.N.E. = F'ed up. Insecure. Neurotic. Egotistical.

That's how Canadian author Louise Penny's character Ruth Zardo translated "I'm fine." Funny? Yes. But also painfully true. Sometimes "I'm fine" really means "I'm struggling, and I'm hoping you'll notice," or "I'm holding on, but I might break soon," or simply "I don't want to burden you."

At times, "I'm fine" is not just a mask but a dismissal. It can be a quiet closing of the door because we've been let down before — "I'm struggling, and I'm hoping you'll notice, but last time I tried to share, you weren't really listening. You seemed distracted, disrespectful, or simply not present. So why should I open up this time?" This, too, is part of the truth behind "I'm fine."

The hidden meaning behind "I'm fine"

After my last newsletter, a subscriber shared a touching message that inspired me to explore this collective behaviour — one we've all learned and probably need to unlearn.

Yesterday, I spoke with a friend and caught myself replying, "I'm fine." At first, it struck me as a little funny — I had just written about "I'm fine," and here I was falling into the same pattern without reflection.

After pausing to think, I realised that for me, "I'm fine" often just means average — nothing too exciting, nothing to worry about. Sometimes "I'm fine" really is fine. But if it becomes the standard answer, it's worth paying attention.

Layers beneath

Sometimes "I'm fine" isn't the truth — it's a mask. It can hide a fear of judgment, since admitting we're not okay feels risky. It can hide a reluctance to burden others, when "I'll handle it myself" seems easier. It can hide pride or self-reliance, the quiet belief that we should be fine. It can hide invisible hurts — anxiety, exhaustion, self-doubt — that don't always feel "serious enough" to share. And it can hide past disappointment, when we've opened up before and felt unseen, unheard, or dismissed, so we stop trying.

Recognising these hidden messages isn't negativity. It's honesty. It's connection. It's authentic leadership.

What if we did things differently?

What if "I'm fine" wasn't the end of the conversation, but the beginning?

It can start with better check-in questions — instead of "How are you?", try "What's been heavy for you this week?" It grows when leaders model vulnerability: when a leader says, "Actually, I'm feeling off today," they give others permission to be real too. It needs safe spaces — team meetings, one-to-ones, or even informal coffee breaks and walk-and-talks can become moments where people drop the mask. And it can be supported by structured reflection, through simple weekly check-ins such as "What's working?", "What's hard?", and "What support would help?"

A little experiment

Next time someone says "I'm fine," gently ask: "Thanks for sharing. What does fine feel like for you right now?" Or when you catch yourself saying "I'm fine," pause and ask: "What's closer to the truth?" — and, if possible, share that instead.

Why it matters, especially in leadership

People don't trust leaders who appear flawless. They trust leaders who are real — leaders who admit they don't have all the answers, who show up even when it's messy, and who encourage others to do the same.

Authentic leaders don't avoid discomfort. They lean into it. They name it. In doing so, they build trust, engagement, and resilient teams.

A final thought

"I'm fine" doesn't have to be a polite lie. It can be a doorway — to connection, honesty, and the kind of spaces where meaningful work and real growth happen. Because when leaders truly listen beneath the "I'm fine," they create cultures built on trust, empathy, and authenticity.

This week, listen beneath the "I'm fine" — in yourself and in others. That's where authentic leadership begins.

Here's to being imperfect. Being brave. Being real.