Among my least admirable qualities is my penchant for complaining. I’m quick to vent to anyone who’ll listen, to moan and groan over any minor nuisance. In other words, if I’m annoyed, inconvenienced, or even slightly put out, you’ll know.
Take, for instance, a recent flight that devolved into a delay, a diversion, a missed connection, another delay, and eventually, arriving at the wrong airport, about which I griped to at least five friends and my mother. Or my whines before, during, and following an ultramarathon I willingly participated in. I complain for sport. And, to some extent, everyone else does, too.
To complain is human, according to Robin Kowalski, a psychology professor at Clemson University. Everyone does it to varying degrees. Some are infrequent kvetchers, while others complain incessantly and always seem to have an excuse for why any potential solution to their woes is insufficient. It should come as no surprise, then, that venters on the extreme end of the spectrum tend to drive people away.
But complaining isn’t all bad, Kowalski says, and it’s especially useful when it helps solve a problem. For me, expressing angst scratches an itch that simply staying quiet does not. By airing my grievances, I might lessen their power over my emotions, or at least make a joke out of them, my thinking goes. The tricky part is knowing how much to complain and to whom.
