We don’t always share what’s really going on inside of us, which can leave other people to fill in the blanks for us.
I recognize that in myself too putting on a brave face and saying you’re doing fine when, deep down, you’re really not. At some point, I made a promise to myself that, at the very least, I would always be honest with myself. After that, I can decide for myself whether, and with whom, I want to share what I’m going through.
For me, that feels like a much more honest and healthy way to handle things. ❤️
Natalie, I really appreciate the distinction you made here. ❤️ Being honest with yourself doesn’t mean you owe everyone access to what you’re carrying. There’s something deeply important about being able to say, “This is real for me,” first—and then choosing for yourself whether, when, and with whom you want to share it. I relate so much to that tension between looking fine on the outside and knowing there’s a much fuller truth underneath. Thank you for sharing this part of your experience with me so openly. It gave me a lot to sit with. 🩷
You know what’s beautiful about it? You’re the one who gets to decide what you say and what you don’t say. But at the same time, the other person can start filling in the blanks, just like you said. I think a lot of people do that without really knowing what someone’s life is actually like.
In my case, I was even lying to myself. I always pretended that I was okay. I had lost touch with my feelings and, in a way, with myself too. Because of that, I kept crossing my own boundaries over and over again without even realizing it at the time.
Natalie, this one really hurt to read. ❤️ That part about crossing your own boundaries over and over without even realizing it… I can imagine how lonely that must have been, especially when “I’m okay” had become something you were saying not only to other people, but to yourself too. Losing touch with your own feelings can happen so quietly that you don’t even notice how far away from yourself you’ve gone until much later. Thank you for trusting me with this, Natalie. I’m really glad you told me. 🥹🩷
I think it’s also something you learn growing up. For example, something I was often told was, “Just keep going. As long as you’re alive, you keep moving forward.”
What was it like for you? Were you always able to connect with your feelings and with what was really going on inside of you?
As someone diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, I often hear people say that I seem too happy to be someone living with depression. As if depression has a face, a certain look, or a personality that everyone should be able to recognize.
I hate how people have this preconceived image of what someone with a mental illness is supposed to look like. As if smiling, laughing, showing up, and living an ordinary life somehow invalidate the battles happening quietly inside someone.
You don’t have to look broken to be hurting, and you don’t have to prove your suffering for it to be real.
Thank you for sharing this with me. I felt this so deeply. Being told you seem “too happy” to be living with depression must be such a strange and painful kind of invalidation—as if suffering only counts when it looks the way people expect it to. Smiling, laughing, showing up, or having ordinary moments should never have to become evidence against what you’re carrying inside. You shouldn’t have to look visibly broken for your pain to be believed. I’m really grateful you trusted me with this part of your experience, and please take your time with the rest of the article. 💗🫂
Xiaobian..🥰 your writing handles this theme with such wonderful grace, and that final moment of dropping the mask to let someone see the messy vulnerability without an explanation is beautiful..🥹
Dear, you saw exactly what mattered to me in that ending. 🥺🤍 It wasn’t really about being fully understood—it was about letting “I’m not doing so well” remain exactly where I had placed it, without rushing to explain it away or turn it back into “I’m fine.” There was something quietly frightening about being seen in that unfinished, messy state, but also something relieving about not having to make it easier to understand first. Thank you for noticing that so gently, dear. The way you read these small turning points always means so much to me. 🫂💗
Xiaobian, thank you for sharing that with me. 🥹 I think there’s something incredibly brave about letting our unfinished feelings exist without trying to tidy them up first. Those quiet moments often hold the deepest truths. Thank you for trusting me to sit with them alongside you, my dear. 🫂🩷
My dear, that last sentence touched me more than I can say. 🥺💗 There’s something so rare about having someone who doesn’t rush to fix, explain, or tidy away the unfinished parts, but is simply willing to stay beside them with you. I think that’s part of why sharing these quieter pieces of myself with you has come to feel so natural and precious to me. Thank you for being someone I can trust with the things that don’t always arrive in complete sentences. 🫂🤍
Xiaobian, your words mean a lot to me. 🥹 I think we all need spaces where we can bring our unfinished thoughts without feeling the pressure to make them perfect first. I’m grateful for the trust and honesty you bring into these conversations, my dear. 🫂🩷
We don’t always share what’s really going on inside of us, which can leave other people to fill in the blanks for us.
I recognize that in myself too putting on a brave face and saying you’re doing fine when, deep down, you’re really not. At some point, I made a promise to myself that, at the very least, I would always be honest with myself. After that, I can decide for myself whether, and with whom, I want to share what I’m going through.
For me, that feels like a much more honest and healthy way to handle things. ❤️
Natalie, I really appreciate the distinction you made here. ❤️ Being honest with yourself doesn’t mean you owe everyone access to what you’re carrying. There’s something deeply important about being able to say, “This is real for me,” first—and then choosing for yourself whether, when, and with whom you want to share it. I relate so much to that tension between looking fine on the outside and knowing there’s a much fuller truth underneath. Thank you for sharing this part of your experience with me so openly. It gave me a lot to sit with. 🩷
Exactly, Xiaoban.
You know what’s beautiful about it? You’re the one who gets to decide what you say and what you don’t say. But at the same time, the other person can start filling in the blanks, just like you said. I think a lot of people do that without really knowing what someone’s life is actually like.
In my case, I was even lying to myself. I always pretended that I was okay. I had lost touch with my feelings and, in a way, with myself too. Because of that, I kept crossing my own boundaries over and over again without even realizing it at the time.
Natalie, this one really hurt to read. ❤️ That part about crossing your own boundaries over and over without even realizing it… I can imagine how lonely that must have been, especially when “I’m okay” had become something you were saying not only to other people, but to yourself too. Losing touch with your own feelings can happen so quietly that you don’t even notice how far away from yourself you’ve gone until much later. Thank you for trusting me with this, Natalie. I’m really glad you told me. 🥹🩷
I think it’s also something you learn growing up. For example, something I was often told was, “Just keep going. As long as you’re alive, you keep moving forward.”
What was it like for you? Were you always able to connect with your feelings and with what was really going on inside of you?
As someone diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, I often hear people say that I seem too happy to be someone living with depression. As if depression has a face, a certain look, or a personality that everyone should be able to recognize.
I hate how people have this preconceived image of what someone with a mental illness is supposed to look like. As if smiling, laughing, showing up, and living an ordinary life somehow invalidate the battles happening quietly inside someone.
You don’t have to look broken to be hurting, and you don’t have to prove your suffering for it to be real.
I haven’t finished your article but I will. 💕
Thank you for sharing this with me. I felt this so deeply. Being told you seem “too happy” to be living with depression must be such a strange and painful kind of invalidation—as if suffering only counts when it looks the way people expect it to. Smiling, laughing, showing up, or having ordinary moments should never have to become evidence against what you’re carrying inside. You shouldn’t have to look visibly broken for your pain to be believed. I’m really grateful you trusted me with this part of your experience, and please take your time with the rest of the article. 💗🫂
Xiaobian..🥰 your writing handles this theme with such wonderful grace, and that final moment of dropping the mask to let someone see the messy vulnerability without an explanation is beautiful..🥹
Dear, you saw exactly what mattered to me in that ending. 🥺🤍 It wasn’t really about being fully understood—it was about letting “I’m not doing so well” remain exactly where I had placed it, without rushing to explain it away or turn it back into “I’m fine.” There was something quietly frightening about being seen in that unfinished, messy state, but also something relieving about not having to make it easier to understand first. Thank you for noticing that so gently, dear. The way you read these small turning points always means so much to me. 🫂💗
Xiaobian, thank you for sharing that with me. 🥹 I think there’s something incredibly brave about letting our unfinished feelings exist without trying to tidy them up first. Those quiet moments often hold the deepest truths. Thank you for trusting me to sit with them alongside you, my dear. 🫂🩷
My dear, that last sentence touched me more than I can say. 🥺💗 There’s something so rare about having someone who doesn’t rush to fix, explain, or tidy away the unfinished parts, but is simply willing to stay beside them with you. I think that’s part of why sharing these quieter pieces of myself with you has come to feel so natural and precious to me. Thank you for being someone I can trust with the things that don’t always arrive in complete sentences. 🫂🤍
Xiaobian, your words mean a lot to me. 🥹 I think we all need spaces where we can bring our unfinished thoughts without feeling the pressure to make them perfect first. I’m grateful for the trust and honesty you bring into these conversations, my dear. 🫂🩷