We’ve all met someone who insists, “I’m fine,” even when you can see in their eyes that they’re not. Maybe you’ve even been that person yourself (I know I have, more than once).
On the surface, they seem calm, capable, and steady. But inside, there’s often a storm of emotions they’re working hard to hide.
Psychology has a lot to say about why people mask their struggles, and the traits that often show up in those who do.
If you’ve ever wondered why some of us keep smiling while quietly unraveling, here are seven distinct patterns worth noticing.
1) They are fiercely independent
Have you ever tried to carry six grocery bags at once just to avoid asking for help? That’s the energy here.
People who brush off their pain with an “I’m fine” often pride themselves on being self-reliant. They don’t want to burden others.
They may have grown up believing that strong people handle everything themselves—or they’ve learned from experience that asking for help doesn’t always bring comfort.
I’ll admit, I’ve been guilty of this too. After Milo was born, I was running on fumes but still saying “I’m good” when neighbors offered help.
Looking back, I realize my stubborn streak kept me from receiving the support I actually needed.
As noted by psychologist Dr. Guy Winch, “We often avoid seeking help because we overestimate the costs and underestimate the benefits” (source).
2) They are people pleasers
It’s hard to admit you’re not okay when your identity is wrapped up in being “the dependable one.”
People pleasers often put everyone else’s needs before their own, so saying “I’m fine” becomes second nature. They don’t want to make waves or risk disappointing anyone.
If they’re crumbling inside, they’ll plaster on a smile instead.
Does that ring a bell? Maybe you’ve been the parent at the playdate offering snacks and small talk, while secretly holding back tears from a tough morning.
I’ve been there too, nodding and chatting while my insides begged for a break.
3) They tend to avoid conflict
Sometimes silence feels safer than honesty. For conflict-averse people, admitting struggle can open the door to uncomfortable conversations they’d rather sidestep.
Think about it: if you tell a friend you’re overwhelmed, they might push you to make changes, offer unsolicited advice, or ask questions you’re not ready to answer.
Saying “I’m fine” neatly shuts the door.
It’s a coping mechanism, but one that can backfire. Bottling things up may prevent conflict in the short run, but it also prevents connection—the kind that heals.
4) They hold themselves to very high standards
Perfectionists don’t like cracks to show. If they’ve built their image on being capable and composed, admitting struggle feels like failure.
This can show up in small ways: the mom who still bakes from scratch even though she’s exhausted, or the coworker who triple-checks every email but insists they’re doing “just fine.”
When Ellie and I plant our spring garden, she’ll sometimes get frustrated if her rows of seeds aren’t perfectly straight. I always remind her that messy lines can still bloom beautifully.
I think adults need that reminder, too: our worth isn’t in flawless presentation.
Research backs this up—studies link perfectionism to greater emotional distress and even depression.
5) They are deeply empathetic
Interestingly, many people who hide their pain are excellent at supporting others. They’ll drop everything to comfort a friend or cheer up a child, but when it comes to their own feelings? Silence.
Why? Because they don’t want to “take up space” or overshadow someone else’s needs. Empaths often minimize their struggles, convincing themselves others have it worse.
But empathy without self-compassion runs dry fast. It’s like pouring from a pitcher you never refill.
I learned this after stretching myself thin during a season of helping extended family—I was great at being there for everyone else, but I ignored the fact that I was running on empty.
6) They excel at masking emotions
Some people become masters at putting on a brave face. They’ll laugh at jokes, keep up with small talk, and even seem cheerful—while their inner world is fraying.
Maybe they learned early on that vulnerability wasn’t safe, so they got good at disguising it.
Maybe they believe showing pain will make them less respected.
Psychologist Susan David calls this “emotional rigidity,” where people avoid difficult feelings instead of facing them.
As she notes in her book Emotional Agility, “Discomfort is the price of admission to a meaningful life.” And yet, so many of us work overtime to dodge that discomfort.
7) They struggle with vulnerability
At the heart of it all, many people who insist they’re fine are simply afraid to be seen. Vulnerability feels too raw, too risky.
Brené Brown, a researcher who has spent decades studying shame and connection, explains it well: “Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weakness”.
I think about the moments when I’ve finally let the words spill—when I’ve told Matt, “Actually, I’m not okay.” Those moments weren’t easy, but they always led to deeper closeness.
And that’s the irony: the very thing we’re afraid of (exposing our cracks) is often the path to real connection.
Final thoughts
What do we do with all this?
If you recognize yourself in any of these traits, you’re not broken—you’re human. Many of us carry a lifetime of conditioning that whispers, don’t let them see you fall apart.
But true strength isn’t about hiding pain. It’s about admitting when you need a hand, and trusting that love won’t disappear when you’re honest.
And if someone close to you often says “I’m fine,” take a gentle second look. Sometimes the kindest thing you can do is offer steady presence—no fixing, no pushing, just space where they feel safe to be real.
Life is messy. We all stumble, cry, and fall apart sometimes. And that’s okay.
Because connection grows not in the shiny, curated moments, but in the brave ones where we let others see the truth.
