The Story Behind the Card: It’s Okay to Be Okay

There are two phrases that sound almost identical, yet represent two completely different emotional seasons: “It’s okay not to be okay” and “It’s okay to be okay.” I created cards for both of these messages because I firmly believe we desperately need permission for both. There are days when simply getting out of bed feels like an olympic accomplishment, when answering a single text feels like too much weight, and when the easiest answer to “How are you?” is a hollow “I’m fine,” even though fine isn't even in the same zip code as reality. On those heavy days, I want you to know you don’t have to pretend, you don’t have to make other people comfortable, and you don’t have to put a pretty bow around something that hurts like hell.

But there's another side to this conversation that we don't talk about nearly enough. What happens when you wake up one morning and realize you actually slept well? You laugh—really laugh—at something stupid, go out with friends and have a genuinely good time, make plans you are actually excited about, or catch yourself absentmindedly singing along to the radio in the car. Almost as quickly as that tiny pocket of joy arrives, a heavy wave of guilt sneaks in right behind it. You start asking yourself: Should I be this happy? Is it wrong that I didn't think about what happened for a few hours? Does feeling better mean I'm forgetting, or am I even allowed to be okay when someone I love isn't here anymore?

The absolute answer is yes. It is entirely okay to be okay, too. Feeling better does not erase what happened, nor does it diminish your love for what you lost.

This distinction is especially close to my heart during Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. September gives us a vital opportunity to talk openly about mental health, emotional pain, and the life-saving importance of reaching out. Organizations like the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline continuously remind people that you don’t have to be in an absolute crisis to seek support, reinforcing their message that “Your reason is reason enough.” Part of making these mental health spaces safer means allowing room for the entire, messy spectrum of being human. Someone can be struggling deeply today and have a genuinely good day tomorrow. Healing isn't a loyalty test; you don't prove how deeply you loved someone by remaining permanently miserable, and having a good day doesn't cancel out the hard ones that came before it.

We need to stop treating "okay" as if it is a permanent destination with a clear finish line. Life simply doesn't work that way. You might be perfectly fine at breakfast and crying in your car by two o'clock in the afternoon. You might have three really beautiful weeks followed by a single afternoon that completely knocks you flat because a calendar date, a song, or a familiar smell caught you completely off guard. That shifting emotion doesn't mean you've gone backward. Maybe okay isn't a place we arrive at all; maybe it's just a state of mind we are allowed to move in and out of. We would all be a little gentler with ourselves if we stopped grading our healing based on a tally of good versus bad days.

For the people standing on the sidelines loving someone through this, our job isn't to decide when they should be over it, nor is it to panic every time they hit a dip. Our job is to create a safe harbor where they can tell us the absolute truth. If someone says they are struggling, listen with empathy and stay connected. Experts at the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) emphasize that if you are worried someone may be thinking about suicide, asking them directly does not increase suicidal thoughts or behavior; they recommend asking clearly, being there, helping them connect with support, and following up. But just as importantly: when someone who has been through absolute hell starts laughing again, laugh right along with them. Don't make them feel guilty for experiencing a good day, don't mistake their joy for forgetting, and just let okay be okay.

This exact emotional balance is the story behind these two Butterflies + Halos cards. One card says, “It's OK not to be OK,” created intentionally for the person who needs permission to drop the heavy mask and stop putting on a brave face. The other card says, “IT'S OK TO BE Okay,” designed for the person who needs an entirely different kind of grace: permission to laugh, celebrate, and enjoy the ordinary little pieces of life without immediate guilt. One card honors what hurt, while the other embraces what is healing.

Because every card in the shop is completely blank inside, you get to write the words that matter most to your specific relationship. You might write, “Whatever today looks like, I’m right here,” or “I’m really happy to see you smile today. You deserve good days, too.” You don’t need to fill every inch of space; a few honest lines are always enough.

❤️ A Gentle Reminder: You are allowed to have terrible days, and you are allowed to have beautiful ones. You are permitted to laugh in the middle of your grief, to need help even after you thought you were doing better, and to experience joy without explaining it to anyone else. You never have to choose between honoring what hurt you and embracing what is actively healing you. Some days you won't be okay, and some days you will. There is infinite room for both. 💛