We don’t seem to breed warriors in the West.
While women in Africa have to walk miles to reach clean drinking water with a heavy jug balanced on their heads, I complain if the supermarket doesn’t have my favourite brand of yoghurt.
Girls on the streets are fighting to stay alive for another day, and my whole morning is thrown off if I happen to accidentally kick my toe on a door or bend a nail back. Let’s face it – most of the time, the things I catch myself moaning about are pretty wussy. There’s even a tweet-tag for it: #firstworldproblems.
Personally, I’d like to be a little tougher. I think we could all complain a lot less and deal with a lot more. Life throws all sorts of curveballs at you; it’s part of playing the game. You can either go out swinging or leave without ever reaching first base.
When I was younger, someone taught me the saying, ‘Have a can of harden-up.’ Initially I thought it seemed a bit insensitive. But now, if I hear myself whinging about things that don’t really matter, I remind myself to do just that. Harden up. Stop complaining.