It’s the polite way of saying: I’ve lowered the bar.
Settled for just-getting-by.
Made peace with the bare minimum and called it self-care.
Spoiler: It’s not.
“Fine” is the emotional equivalent of eating plain toast when you know damn well there’s avocado and hot sauce in the fridge.
It’s tolerating a job that drains you.
A relationship that bores you.
A dream you swore you’d chase… but haven’t touched in months.
And the worst part?
We say “fine” like it’s noble.
Like it’s better to coast quietly than admit we want more.
Here’s the truth: You don’t need a breakdown to justify a breakthrough.
You don’t need permission to raise your standards.
You’re allowed to say:
“I’m not fine. I’m hungry. I’m restless. I’m ready.”
So let’s retire the lie.
Let’s stop calling resignation ‘resilience.’
And start getting honest about what we actually want…
So we can go out and get it.
Because you weren’t built for fine.
You were built for fire.