“I’m FINE”
It’s one of the most common responses from men when they’re asked if they’re ok.
Two small words that keep the rest of the world comfortable and our emotions contained.
We say it to partners when we don’t have the energy to explain, to friends when the truth feels messy. To ourselves, when something inside us is fraying but admitting it feels too dangerous.
It’s conditioning at it’s finest. Generations of men have been taught that silence is strength, that to hold it together is the right thing to do. But during Movember and Men’s Mental Health Month, it’s worth asking: what’s the real cost of those two words?
Keeping it safe
For many of you, silence can feel safer than honesty.
Many of our clients, typically in their 40s and beyond, were taught from a young age, to “man up,” “get on with it,” or “stop overthinking.” Some of you may have learnt early that emotion is something to manage, not express. Somewhere between boyhood and middle age, vulnerability got edited out of their vocabulary.
So “I’m fine” becomes a habit, and a shortcut that keeps everything tidy. It protects us from looking weak, needy, or out of control. It spares us the awkwardness of explaining feelings we don’t fully understand ourselves.
Many of you won’t want to burden others, carrying an ingrained belief that your role is to provide stability, not disruption, so to admit you’re far from “fine” or “ok” can feel like letting the team down.
But the truth is, “I’m fine” is often code for something else - I feel like im drowning. I’m feeling consistently flat. I’m completely burnt out. Or, I just don’t feel myself.
It’s not that you don’t feel it’s that you’ve never been shown how to express it.
The Impact
The problem with “I’m fine” is that it works, until it doesn’t.
Bottled emotions have to go somewhere and over time, that quiet pressure can build into physical strain, mental exhaustion, and emotional distance.
You stop sleeping properly. You loose patience with the people you care about most. You go through the motions at work, disconnected but determined to keep up the act.
In the UK, men are three times more likely to die by suicide than women, yet far less likely to seek help. That’s not a coincidence, it’s a crisis of silence.
When we avoid vulnerability, we trade honesty for isolation. We lose connection, with our partners, our friends, our sense of self.
How do we break the pattern?
The million pound question, and it’s a meaty one.
From my experience in coaching men breaking the pattern starts with small steps.
Try honesty in low-risk moments, a chat with a mate when you’re out for a run, a quiet word with your partner, even a check-in with yourself. For example you could start journaling how you’re feeling – that simple act of naming and validating you feeling can be a powerful step to take (for some of you this will work, for others it’ll feel like torture – do what feels right for you).
Swap “I’m fine” for something that actually fits:
“It’s been a tough week.”
“I’m not sure how I feel.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
Those small shifts create space, for real conversation, for empathy, for connection.
You don’t have to have all the answers, you just have to be honest enough to start.
Because openness isn’t dramatic; it’s human, and like any skill, it gets easier with practice.
How to Check In When Someone Shuts Down
It can be hard to know how to approach a friend, colleague, or partner when you’ve noticed they’ve not been themselves.
Here’s a few thoughts on how to help, without forcing it:
Connection happens in small, unpressured spaces – chatting while you’re side by side in the car or out walking together is far less intense than sitting in front of one another making direct eye contact.
Ask twice: “How are you?”, will likely get the familiar “I’m fine”. So ask twice. “yeh, but how are you actually / really”. This moves you away from social graces to show that you care. That you’re asking intentionally.
Many of us want to fix things when someone we care about isn’t in a good place or struggling with something. But the very best thing you can do, is just listen. You don’t need to solve their problem, just make space for it.
If you’re a manager or leader, this matters too. The workplace is often where silence hides best. Building trust, empathy, and psychological safety at work can change everything.
I’m always quietly proud when I hear a leader being open and honest of their own highs and lows with their colleagues. Role modelling, and showing it’s safe to bring your stuff, your whole self, to work. So to any manager, leader, founder reading this - share your own experience.
Vulnerability is contagious in the best possible way.
How Coaching Helps Men Find Their Voice
For many men, coaching becomes the bridge between silence and self-understanding.
It’s not therapy, it’s forward-looking, practical, and action-oriented. Coaching helps men explore what’s really going on beneath the surface, without judgment or labels.
A coach – whether for professional or personal development - offers a confidential space to talk honestly, reflect, and rebuild confidence. It’s a structured way to slow down, take stock, and start translating thoughts into words, and words into action.
At The Midlife Man, coaching is about helping men reconnect with themselves, their purpose, and the people around them. Whether through executive coaching for men, 1-1 life coaching, or The Shift Series, it’s about learning to lead, not just at work, but in life.
Final Word
Here’s a bit of homework for the week. Don’t say “I’m fine.” Say something true instead.
Start small. See what happens.
Because every honest word chips away at the silence that’s been keeping men apart, and makes space for something better: connection, courage, and change.
