Being “okay” and being at peace

For a long time, I thought being okay was the goal. If I’m okay, I’m good.

But I’m learning that there is a difference between the two, and this is just how I see it.

Okay meant I was functioning. I was replying to messages (eventually), showing up where I said I would and taking care of my responsibilities. It meant I could say “I’m fine” without feeling dishonest — just carefully leaving somethings unsaid.

And for a while, that felt like progress. That felt good to me.

But peace, I’m learning, is something else entirely.

Holding it together

Being okay feels like holding your breath underwater and thinking, See? I’ve got this. Being at peace feels like finally coming up for air and realising you don’t have to prove anything.

When I’m okay, my life looks good on paper. I’m productive. I’m coping. I’m doing all the “right” things. But there’s this faint tension that lingers underneath it all, like an app I forgot to close. I’m always bracing for something — another task or another feeling.

What peace actually feels like

Peace is quieter.

I’m not constantly asking myself if I should be doing more, feeling more, or being different. I’m not rushing my emotions to wrap things up neatly so they don’t inconvenience me.

Peace says, You can sit here for a minute.

Letting things catch up

At first, I felt a bit uncomfortable. Because when you’re used to being okay, stillness feels suspicious. Like you’re forgetting something. I felt as if rest must be earned. If I stop moving, all the feelings I’ve been outrunning might finally catch up.

Sometimes they do.

But peace doesn’t panic about that kind of stuff. Peace trusts that you can feel things without turning them into emergencies.

The part no one applauds

I think the hardest part is that being okay is often rewarded. People praise resilience, productivity, and “handling things so well.” Peace doesn’t always look impressive. Sometimes it looks like saying no. Or leaving earlier than planned. Or choosing softness when discipline would get more applause.

I think sometimes peace looks boring, and it looks like doing less and feeling more.

What I actually want

I’m realising I don’t actually want a life where I’m just okay all the time. I want a life that feels kind to live inside. One where my nervous system isn’t always on standby.

I still have okay days. A lot of them. Days where I’m getting through instead of settling in. But now I can tell the difference.