Why we all (including me) need to limit our complaining

By Alison Smith

Senior Alison Smith takes a moment to appreciate nature.

In writing this, I suppose I should be imparting wisdom on all of you. After almost four years at East, I should have some succinct phrases to sum up everything I’ve learned…but I’m too tired. Plus, I have two AP exams tomorrow, and I spent most of last weekend at a track meet. Ugh. SMH. FML.

You don’t want to read about my trivial complaints, do you? I sure wouldn’t want to hear about them, and yet I hear similar complaints at East every day. When faced with an understocked bathroom or an upcoming math test, an East student’s first reaction is to begin grumbling. It doesn’t matter whether or not our complaints are legitimate; we pity ourselves constantly. Complaining may seem harmless, but we do it so frequently that we’ve stopped registering just how often we’re throwing our own pity parties.

            Some of us have things to complain about. I’ve had close friends at East lose their family members or struggle with serious health problems. Horrible stuff can happen to highschoolers. This isn’t about those people. It’s about the rest of us, whether we’re in the bathrooms bemoaning the lack of toilet paper, in the mirror despairing over a bad hair day, or flipping through the Independent Weekly only to denounce Chapel Hill sarcastically as “Chapel Thrill.”

I know I complain far too often. I’m usually looking for sympathy, and I almost always get it. After the initial relief of making my (whiny) voice heard, however, my self-pity only exacerbates the minor problem that prompted my complaint.

Despite my tendency to complain, the upcoming prospect of leaving Chapel Thrill has forced me to realize how much I’ve loved growing up here. TheChapel Hillarea is unique and vibrant; I can’t think of any place I’d rather have spent the first 18 years of my life. I’m so incredibly lucky to wake up in the morning and drive myself to East, and even luckier to return home without worrying about whether there’ll be food on the table for dinner. I don’t tell my friends and family often enough just how much I love and appreciate them. I know I’m not the only person at East who could use a reminder of the importance of gratitude in everyday life.

Last summer I spent almost a month on a backpacking trip with theNationalOutdoorLeadershipSchool. Every morning before we began the day’s hike, one of the instructors would tell us, “Today is the best day ever,” and look at us expectantly until someone asked “why?” so he could respond, his face cracking into a wide grin, “because it’s today!”

It might sound clichéd now, but at the time these words had a powerful effect on me. For a few short weeks I was living in the moment, trying to appreciate each day as it passed. In this mindset, frozen boots were more of a challenge than a pain and burnt oatmeal was a culinary style rather than a cruddy breakfast. It was liberating while it lasted, but back at home I eventually fell into the same self-pitying patterns I had kept before the trip. Why? Why do we feel the need to complain so much?

By complaining we’re really just seeking attention, and sympathy for our perceived troubles is very reassuring. At East we’re caught up in a world where our success is defined by our test grades, our friends’ invitations or our teams’ victories. We’re each so wrapped up in our own dramas that we forget to take a look around, and we lose sight of how fortunate we truly are.

At the end of the day, maybe all I’d like to do is leave East with this elegant piece of wisdom: put on your big girl panties and deal with it (and guys, put on your boxers). When the weeks grow long and the insignificant annoyances pile up, spend some time outside. There’s nothing like nature to put things into perspective. When classmates are throwing their pity parties, don’t immediately jump on board with sympathy unless it’s deserved. And when you’re feeling down, never underestimate the power of a hug from a friend – that hug will feel better than complaining ever will.