Lately, as a part of my 7-40 Challenge, I’ve been diving into The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad, and tonight, one essay in particular hit me hard: “How Are You, Really?” by Nora McInerny (whose name I’m probably mangling in my head—apologies, Nora). In it, she shares a raw, honest story about a tragedy that shook her world. A dear friend looked her in the eyes and asked, “How are you, really?” Her response? “I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t fine. Not even close. As a newly widowed mother of a toddler, Nora was grappling with a severe case of PTSD that lingered for months. Her essay got me thinking: why do we default to “I’m fine” when someone asks how we’re doing? Especially when the people asking are the ones who love us, who are offering a safe space to unravel, to connect, to just be with someone who cares. That question—“How are you, really?”—is an invitation to vulnerability, yet so often, we brush it off.
So, let me take a stab at answering it for myself. How am I, really?
I’m tired. Exhausted, even. Two and a half months ago, my family and I packed up our lives and moved to a new city. We bought a new house, I started a new job, and we’ve been working to find the rhythm of this new chapter. There’s so much to love about this fresh start—the opportunities, being closer to friends and family, the chance to grow. My heart is full of gratitude for where we are and what lies ahead. But the constant motion, the frenetic energy of “new,” is wearing on me. It’s survivable—more than survivable, really—but it’s a lot.
At the same time, I’m hopeful. After feeling stagnant in my previous role due to forces beyond my control, this new job has reignited my sense of agency. I’m excited about the opportunities in front of me, even if they’re a little terrifying (in the best way possible). My drive to contribute, to make a difference, is stronger than it’s been in years. That spark keeps me going, even on the tired days.
And at my core? I’m greatful. Truly. That’s not a glossed-over “I’m fine.” It’s a deep, grounded sense of gratitude that anchors me. I’m grateful to God for His love and for saving me. I am thankful for the love in my life—for my wife, who married me all those years ago and loves me more fiercely today than ever. For my son, who I am so very proud of and whose relationship with his dad fills me with so much joy. For our friends, our family, the home we’ve been blessed with. Gratitude is the thread that weaves through it all, keeping me steady.
As I stand on the cusp of another birthday, I’m not necessarily struggling with getting older, but it’s definitely a more present reality. The older I get, the more I want my life to matter. I want my decisions to be wiser, my love to be fiercer, my gratitude to be front and center. I want to live with purpose, to make a contribution that lasts. I want to make God smile.
So, that’s how I am, really. Tired, hopeful, grateful, and ready to lean into this next chapter with intention. I’m choosing to love harder, to live more purposefully, to let gratitude guide me.
How about you? How are you, really? Take a moment to answer that question—not just for someone else, but for yourself. You might be surprised by what you find.
David Willis 