"I'm OK."

How often do you hear that phrase every day? How often are you actually the one saying it? In my lifetime, I've said "I'm OK" more times than even I can count, or even think of. But what does it actually mean when you say that you're OK?

Sometimes, "I'm OK" is a plea. Whether it's a plea to be left alone, or a cry out for help, is yours to decide on your own. It can mean that no, everything isn't OK, but we know that it will be. Sometimes it's the false mindset that we don't want anyone else to bother us, or that we don't think they actually care.

I'm from the North where friendliness is just a 12-letter word and "Friendly's" is just a restaurant with good ice cream. I don't want to stereotype myself, or my home, but usually we don't ask because we don't care. It makes it easier when we actually do care though, because it's obvious. But down in the South, there's "Southern Hospitality," which means it's common knowledge that when you pass someone you know in the halls, around campus, at the grocery store, etc., you should fully expect a "Hi! How are you?!" and are expected to return the statement in one of its various forms. But the truth is that they probably don't give a crap about you or how your day has been.

This drives the "I'm OK" statement home. It can be said with a smile (fake and plastered, or realer than "Gilmore Girls" coming back), or it can be said with tears streaming down our faces. But no matter what, we're OK.

Maybe this is just me, but I don't want people to worry about me. I guess there's something about being the middle-youngest-everything child in me that doesn't want people to worry. Or maybe it's the desire to look put together all the time. Or maybe, just maybe, I actually am just "OK." I'm not over the moon happy, like I know that I once was and will someday be again, and I'm not internally crying for x, y, and z reasons. I'm just okay. I'm hanging out.

And I'm slowly learning that is OK. It's OK that I don't have my life figured out. It's OK that I miss my family and parts of my past. It's okay to confidently have no idea what I'm doing. It's OK.

Now you have to decide if you're OK. Go ahead. Take your time.