"I'm Okay!"
- Lauren Shaw, PhD
- Mar 14, 2016
- 4 min read

My middle daughter is probably the toughest person I know. She seems virtually impervious to physical pain. Her mantra is “I’m ok!” She has to say this a lot, because she is also incredibly active, daring, and high energy, and as a result has a lot of scary looking falls. I tell you, that toughness and daring is an intense combination.
Once, when she had just turned three, we noticed that she was acting kind of funny. She was walking on her toes, or really the balls of her feet. I asked her why, and she said she was, “trying a new way to walk.” Which seemed to make sense to me, because she was three.
But the next morning she was still walking funny, and I asked if I could look at her feet. On the bottom of her left foot was one of the angriest looking wounds I had ever seen. The injury itself seemed to have started with a tiny little puncture, but it was swollen up like a giant white and red marble, with red threads tracing out beyond it. We took her to the doctor and then the hospital, and ended up spending the next two weeks aggressively fighting a very nasty infection that was invading her body.
The doctors were amazed that she hadn’t complained about it earlier. They guessed that it had been there for several days before we caught it, painful and growing more infected by the day. Our tough little girl had just powered through, telling herself “I’m ok” over and over, and doing all she could to ignore the pain. It scares me to think about what could have happened if we hadn’t looked at her foot and brought her in when we did.
How often do we do this at an emotional level? How often do we send ourselves messages along these lines: let it go, ignore it, don’t let it bother you, it’s not a big deal, you shouldn’t feel ____ (fill in the blank with whatever you feel), and so on and so forth? How often do we say “I’m ok” to ourselves and the rest of the world, whether or not it’s true?
“Let it go” could be really good advice, if it worked. And sometimes it does. When I am annoyed that my husband is chewing his cereal too loudly, “let it go" is a solid recommendation. But we frequently encourage ourselves and each other to push through significant and important emotions, when it’s just not possible or healthy to do so.
So often we tell ourselves we are going to let it go, and what we are really doing is ignoring or pushing down the pain. And in the same way that my daughter’s injury went from a small cut to a major, dangerous infection, our emotional wounds and irritations grow into relationship-damaging, soul-crushing emotional infections. Just like physical wounds need care and attention, emotional pain does as well.
So how do we know what to let go and what to address? I have learned that I cannot trust myself when I am overtired, hungry, or in the middle of a major transition. In those moments my emotions tell me that everything is a big deal and I am probably going to die. Once I have had some food, sleep, and a few deep breaths, my perspective is very different. So in those moments, I try to take a step back and meet those needs before determining if I need to address an issue. If it still feels significant or painful, chances are that “letting it go" is not going to work.
If you find yourself ruminating on an emotional issue, thinking about it frequently, making passive and snarky comments about it, or avoiding the another person because of it, chances are you need to address the issue. Addressing it could look like having a conversation with the other person, seeking wise counsel or therapy, or spending intentional time in reflection or prayer. Any of these steps can help lead to insight, healing, and even restoration.
People frequently ask me what good can come of talking about hurt feelings, anger, and conflict. I believe it can do a world of good. Neuroscience shows us that naming our emotions and talking about them can reduce the intensity and discomfort associated with the emotion. And when this conversation happens in the context of a safe, supportive, wise relationship, there is the potential for amazing healing and restoration.
That same super-tough child of mine is now a four year old who is (still) obsessed with the movie Frozen. The song “Let it Go” is sung at least once a day, every day, in my home. But we’ve had some good conversations about how that can actually be bad advice. Being tough and strong can be a really good thing, but asking for help and acknowledging weakness and pain are also essential life skills. She still says “I’m ok” a lot, but I hope that she knows that when she is not ok, it is important to let somebody know. And the same is true for you and me.
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