How to complain with care
One thing a lot of us could do more: complain.
Or, complain consciously, that is.
This is a concept I learned from Karla McLaren, an author and emotions researcher, who has fascinating things to say about how to cope with our feelings.
She says complaining, when done properly, can keep us from getting stuck in moody states. In her Dynamic Emotional Integration workbook, she says complaining is truth-telling, but points out that a lot of us hesitate to let it rip.
I know this feeling.
Often when I feel frustrated and upset, I don’t want to whine or be a Debbie Downer. I don’t want to be negative. I don’t want to dwell. Life is too short.
So, instead of expressing what’s weighing on me, I’ll try not to go there. I’ll tell myself to be positive. Turn my attention to what’s good.
But that feels wrong, too.
McLaren’s workbook says, “We’re all taught to be endlessly positive and peppy, which means that we have to repress most of our emotions. Sadly, this repression tends to clog us up with all the things we’re not allowed to say, or notice or feel.”
She says complaining in a conscious and semistructured way helps us work through our very real, unavoidable and even necessary emotions, restoring our flow. It can move us out of moodiness and discontent more efficiently than suppressing vibes we don’t like or sloppily airing gripes right and left. In other words, complaining is good — when it’s conscious.
To that end, she offers two methods to properly unleash. One is individual, the other with a buddy.
For the private version, she suggests finding a place where you’re alone and free to let loose. Begin by acknowledging that it’s go-time. Say out loud something like, “I’m complaining now,” she says.
Then — go. Voice everything on your mind. Talk to objects in your midst or just the air. Get it all out. Whine, cry, yell, whatever. The technique is simple, and it works. (I know, I just did it about 20 minutes ago.)
For the partner edition, again, start by formally opening the floodgates. McLaren suggests setting the stage for both parties by saying some version of “I don’t need you to fix me. I just need to complain.”
The listener’s job is purely to support the process by being an open ear and encouraging a full release. It’s explicitly noted not to give advice.
McLaren says each person could set a timer for three minutes and talk until the time is up, but I like the approach that I’ve heard from Martha Beck, another great author and life coach: Beck says a listener can encourage clearing and discovery by saying “say more” as frequently as is necessary, until a speaker either solves their own problems or feels complete.
In either of McLaren’s methods, a weight lifts. I can attest to this. I’ve been so overwhelmed and at a loss this summer. In the last few months, my family has dealt with death, job loss, sickness, a move (and house problems relating to the move), on top of basic COVID concerns and the general chaos of having two toddlers. I’ve really walked this line of not wanting to complain but also needing to get things off my mind and chest. It has been such a relief to voice my concerns — and complain — without feeling like that’s bad or wrong. It’s helped me move through.
McLaren says, “This may sound contradictory, but you just can’t be happy — and you can’t access the gifts in all of your emotions — unless you complain (consciously) when you need to.”
So, while I hope you don’t have anything to complain about anytime soon, I hope you really dig in intentionally and wholeheartedly next time you do.
