The Quiet Exhaustion of Pretending You’re Fine
Some people become so good at holding everything together…
that nobody realizes how much they’re carrying.
Not their friends.
Not their church.
Not their coworkers.
Sometimes not even the people closest to them.
They keep showing up.
Keep leading.
Keep answering texts.
Keep taking care of everyone else.
And underneath all of it is a quiet fear:
What happens if people realize I don’t actually have this together?
In a recent episode of At the Counter with the Baking Pastor, I sat down with Kurt Bush to talk about what it feels like to live through seasons that feel unsteady while still trying to appear steady to everyone else.
And honestly?
I think a lot of us know that feeling better than we’d like to admit.
“You Can’t Let People See You Bleed”
At one point, Kurt shared something a pastor once told him early in ministry:
“You just can’t let people see you bleed.”
That sentence says a lot about the world many of us learned to survive in.
Not just pastors.
Parents too.
Caregivers.
Leaders.
Strong friends.
The dependable one in the family.
Somewhere along the way, many of us absorbed the message that strength meant:
- looking composed,
- having answers,
- staying productive,
- hiding fear,
- and never letting the cracks show.
But carrying that kind of performance every day is exhausting.
Because eventually your outside life and your inside life stop matching.
The Fear of Being Found Out
Kurt described sitting in seminary classes feeling like everyone around him was smarter, more qualified, more capable.
Every assignment became a quiet battle with fear.
“I would hover over the submit button… afraid I’d be found out as an imposter.”
That hit me hard because Rachel knows that feeling too.
Maybe not in seminary.
But in life.
Feeling like:
- everyone else handles motherhood better,
- everyone else has stronger faith,
- everyone else knows what they’re doing,
- everyone else is coping better,
- everyone else belongs more than you do.
So you smile.
You keep functioning.
You keep performing “fine.”
Meanwhile anxiety quietly hums in the background like an old refrigerator you stopped noticing years ago.
Shame Grows in the Dark
One of the most important moments in the conversation came when Kurt said:
“Shame grows in the dark.”
Whew.
That’s it, isn’t it?
Shame survives by convincing us:
- “Don’t say that out loud.”
- “Good Christians shouldn’t struggle like this.”
- “If people knew the real you…”
- “You should be stronger by now.”
And because we’re afraid of being judged, we isolate.
But silence almost always makes shame louder.
Not smaller.
That doesn’t mean we tell everyone everything.
But it does mean healing usually begins the moment honesty finally gets a little oxygen.
Faith Doesn’t Always Feel Easy to Reach
One thing I deeply appreciated about this conversation was Kurt’s honesty about struggling spiritually during a difficult season of ministry and transition.
He admitted there was a season where faith felt harder to access.
I think many people quietly carry guilt over that.
They assume:
- if faith feels difficult,
- if prayer feels dry,
- if they’re angry at God,
- if they feel disconnected spiritually…
then they must be failing.
But maybe honesty with God is not failure.
Maybe lament is still prayer.
Maybe exhausted faith is still faith.
“You’re Not Alone, and It’s Okay”
When I asked Kurt what he would say to someone barely holding it together, his answer was simple:
“You’re not alone, and it’s okay.”
Not:
- “Try harder.”
- “Pray more.”
- “Fix yourself.”
- “Get over it.”
Just:
You are not alone.
There is something deeply healing about hearing another human being say:
“Me too.”
Especially when shame has convinced you everyone else is doing life better than you are.
Self-Compassion Is Not Weakness
Toward the end of the conversation, Kurt kept returning to one word:
Self-compassion.
Not self-indulgence.
Not avoidance.
Not giving up.
Self-compassion.
The kind that says:
- “I’m struggling, and I’m still worthy of kindness.”
- “I didn’t ruin everything because I had a hard day.”
- “Healing takes time.”
- “I get to try again tomorrow.”
Honestly, many of us speak to ourselves in ways we would never speak to another person.
And maybe part of healing is learning to stop becoming our own worst enemy.
A Gentle Reminder Before You Go
Maybe today you feel unsteady.
Maybe you’re tired of carrying invisible pressure.
Maybe you’re afraid people will see your cracks.
Maybe you’re exhausted from trying to keep everything together.
If that’s you, hear this gently:
You do not have to pretend to be okay in order to be loved by God.
You do not have to earn rest.
You do not have to perform strength.
You do not have to heal overnight.
Sometimes the holiest thing we can do is simply tell the truth:
“This feels hard right now.”
And then sit down at the counter anyway. ☕
Listen to the Full Episode
You can listen to the full conversation with Kurt Bush on At the Counter with the Baking Pastor:.
Learn more about Kurt’s work at:
Brimstone Coaching Group