The Invisible Labour of ‘Looking Fine’ at Work
Understanding the emotional and physical cost of appearing well when you’re not
For many people living with chronic illness, the workplace is not just where they perform their job—it’s where they perform wellness.
They show up. They smile. They contribute. They reply to emails promptly.
They look fine.
But behind that appearance is often an invisible, relentless effort. The effort to manage symptoms quietly. To mask pain or fatigue. To maintain professionalism even when the body is barely holding together.
This hidden performance—the labour of appearing well—takes its toll. And it’s time we talked about it.
What It Means to “Look Fine” When You’re Not
For those with invisible or fluctuating health conditions, the absence of visible markers—like crutches, mobility aids, or hospital admissions—can be a double-edged sword. On one hand, it protects them from overt pity or intrusive questioning. On the other, it places pressure on them to behave as though nothing is wrong.
“Looking fine” can involve a number of unseen efforts:
Waking up hours earlier to manage medication side effects before logging on.
Powering through meetings while experiencing brain fog or physical pain.
Choosing outfits that hide medical devices, rashes, or swelling.
Preparing scripts or notes in advance to compensate for cognitive difficulties.
Forcing cheerfulness to avoid being perceived as “difficult” or unprofessional.
Each of these tasks takes energy. But because that energy isn’t visible, it often goes unnoticed and unacknowledged.
Why It’s So Exhausting
The real toll of this performance lies in the emotional and psychological weight it carries. People living with chronic illness often navigate two internal tensions simultaneously:
The fear of being disbelieved or dismissed if they don’t appear fine.
The guilt of being misunderstood if they do appear fine.
This leads to a constant need to prove legitimacy: to reassure others (and sometimes themselves) that their condition is real, serious, and not simply an excuse for lower output.
There’s also the quiet calculation behind every interaction:
Will I be seen as unprofessional if I mention my pain today?
If I request an adjustment, will people think I’m slacking off?
Should I take leave and rest, or push through and avoid judgement?
Over time, this kind of emotional labour becomes draining—and unsustainable.
How Workplace Culture Contributes
In many modern workplaces—especially in fast-paced, performance-driven cities like Singapore—productivity is often equated with visibility. The person who replies quickly, stays late, or looks “on the ball” is seen as reliable. Meanwhile, those who need rest, flexibility, or reduced hours may be viewed (subtly or overtly) as less committed.
This mindset leaves little room for the nuanced reality of chronic illness. It assumes that capability is linear and predictable. But for those living with fluctuating conditions, capacity can vary from hour to hour.
Even well-intentioned colleagues may unknowingly reinforce these pressures. Remarks like:
“But you looked fine yesterday.”
“I wish I had the luxury of working from home too.”
“You don’t look sick.”
...may seem harmless, but they contribute to a culture where invisibility equals invalidity.
The Problem With “Push Through” Culture
There’s a quiet heroism expected in “pushing through”—but it often comes at the expense of long-term wellbeing. Many chronically ill employees continue working during flares, skip medical appointments, or avoid disclosing their condition altogether out of fear of being penalised.
And ironically, this very commitment becomes part of the problem. When someone performs wellness well enough, the need for support becomes harder to justify in the eyes of others.
This creates a vicious cycle: the better one hides their struggle, the less support they receive.
So What Would Real Support Look Like?
Creating a truly inclusive workplace for people with chronic illness doesn’t require dramatic policy overhauls—it requires a cultural shift. A shift towards believing people, listening without judgement, and offering flexibility as a form of trust—not pity.
For Employers and Team Leaders:
Normalise access to adjustments without requiring extensive justification. Flexibility should be proactive, not just reactive.
Prioritise outcomes over visibility. Focus on what’s being achieved, not how it’s being performed.
Encourage check-ins that don’t centre on disclosure. Try: “How’s your capacity this week?” instead of “Are you okay?”
Provide mental health and chronic illness literacy training for managers and HR staff. Many barriers come from a lack of awareness, not malice.
For Colleagues:
Believe people the first time. Chronic illness doesn’t always need to be “proven” through exhaustion or suffering.
Avoid assumptions based on appearances. Looking well doesn’t mean feeling well.
Offer support without pressure. Sometimes, just saying “I’m here if you need a quieter day” goes further than you think.
A Note to Those Doing the Invisible Labour
If you’re someone who has ever smiled through pain in a meeting, said “I’m fine” when you weren’t, or pushed through just to avoid being questioned—you’re not alone.
You’re doing far more than others may realise. And while the world may not always see the effort behind your “functioning,” it is real. It is valid. And it matters.
You don’t owe anyone a performance of wellness to deserve understanding.
🌱 Reflection Prompt
What does “looking fine” at work cost you?
What would support look like if you didn’t have to earn it?
Let’s imagine workplaces where people can be rather than perform—where showing up is enough, even when it doesn’t look perfect.