Family

I Have a Complaint

I’ve decided you can often tell in the blog world when your peeps are happy. How? They write.

After arriving in Boston last week, my business partner and I were heading to our first destination after meeting in the airport. I was driving. While in the passenger seat she proceeded to tell me something I believe she spent time debating in that adobe head of hers.
“Pamela, I would like to request on this trip that you try to not complain so much.”
I looked at her a tad confused. Complain? When do I ever complain? I looked at her to confirm that she was joking, but she looked straight ahead.
“I don’t complain.”
“Oh, yes you do. Quite a bit actually.”
This must be part of my Johari window that I know nothing about. I wanted to pursue this conversation.
“Could you please give me an example of this complaining?” I requested.
“I could give you a lot of examples.”
It soon became clearer that our definition of complaining was different from each other.
“It isn’t always what you say, it is how you say it. I do appreciate that if you do have a complaint you try to find a solution. You are clever that way.”

Needless to say I filtered my thoughts. And when I did speak I often apologized for complaining.

“There is a difference in stating your observations and complaining about what you observe. For example you said, ‘Where are all the signposts? How am I suppose to know when my turnoff is?’ You could have easily said, ‘I wish there were more sign posts letting tourists know where we are.”

Ahhhh, it is all about the spin. I’m a terrible spinner. I will practice.

I wish there were more people in the world who didn’t always take whatever I say or do personally. I wish people wouldn’t look in my eyes and always ask what is wrong. I wish I wasn’t misunderstood. How’s that for a spin?

I came home and said to Ciera Jo, “Cyndi says I complain a lot.”
Ciera said, “She’s right. You do.”
Hmmmm. Sometimes I don’t like the person others see when they see me.
I’m not complaining. I’m observing. Really.