mature man writing in notebook on the sofa at home or office

Several years ago, I was working at a retreat center where a co-worker had just finished reading A Complaint Free World by Will Bowen. She shared the premise—no complaining, gossiping or criticizing for 21 days—and proposed that our staff of four yoga instructors try it. We all agreed, each accepting a bracelet to remind us of our vow. If we complained, verbally or mentally, we had to switch the bracelet to the opposite wrist and start our 21-day count over.

With a team full of optimists, day one was easy. The retreat was flowing peacefully, and the three weeks ahead seemed simple. Then, the unexpected happened: one of the teachers fell ill; an early monsoon brought intense heat along with mosquitoes, mud and power cuts; and we hosted a string of difficult guests, each full of their own complaints.

By the second day, all four of us had switched our bracelets multiple times. By our fourth “Day 1” in a row, one teacher stopped wearing hers altogether. The rest of us lasted a few more hours before unanimously deciding to quit the challenge with one grand, mutual complaint: it seemed impossible.

But, while that group experiment fizzled out, it actually kicked off a real journey for me. Rather than trying to be “perfect” about not complaining, I started paying attention to those negative loops in my mind and how they colored the way I talked to others. It’s been a slow process, but learning to pause and shift my perspective has honestly changed everything—my relationships feel lighter, and my knee-jerk reaction to complain has finally started to quiet down. 

My Journey with Complaining as an INFP 

Looking back, I think I wanted to do the challenge because, deep down, I knew my griping was starting to weigh on the people I care about. We all vent sometimes, but I’ve realized that, as an INFP, I have this tendency to zero in on what’s wrong or what needs fixing. I’ve realized I often share these thoughts without a second thought, completely missing that to the people around me, it comes across as pure negativity.

People complain for many reasons:

  • To get attention or start a conversation.
  • To connect with others through shared suffering.
  • As a habit formed through social conditioning.
  • Due to a negativity bias (the more we complain, the more we wire our brains for negative thinking).
  • As a coping mechanism for releasing stress or processing emotions.

However, I’ll venture to say that many INFPs complain from a different place: the frustration caused by the discrepancy between how we want the world to be versus how it actually is.  For better or worse (but hopefully better), idealism is part of the INFP profile.  I’m constantly striving to see myself and the world in an optimal state. And, for better or worse (this time, perhaps worse), I tend to voice my preferences and opinions in the hope that the reality I see will change. 

But to those around me, it can sound like I’m never satisfied.

Over the years, some of the people I’m closest to have told me that I come across as negative or that I complain too much. Since I truly see myself as an optimist, hearing that is always a painful surprise. It really hits my confidence because I care so much about how I’m perceived by the people I love. 

Take my old relationship, for example. I used to drive my partner crazy by getting up from the dinner table to tweak the seasoning in our meals. To him, it felt like I was criticizing his cooking or interrupting our quality time just to grab a lemon. In my head, I was just trying to balance the flavors—adding a splash of acid or a pinch of salt to make the dish perfect. To him, nothing was ever good enough; to me, there was no problem at all.

Then there was the time I worked at a friend’s retreat center. I spent my first month there making lists of all the practical, and admittedly some totally unrealistic, ways we could improve things. I was just trying to share my "what-if" ideas, but later I found out my friend had told people I arrived full of complaints.

It was tough to wrap my head around this at first. I didn't see myself as being negative or pessimistic, just honest and hopeful and helpful. But these moments were a wake-up call. I realized that if I want to share my vision without hurting the people I love, I have to be way more mindful about how I actually say things.

How I’m Learning to Complain Less

I’ve found that complaining really does drain the energy out of my life, and being around a lot of negativity—even if it’s my own—just makes it harder to stay mentally healthy. I’ve noticed that when I try to be more intentional about not complaining, I end up looking at my own reactions in a totally different way. It’s been a game-changer for me, and maybe some of these strategies could help you, too.

  • Getting to know my thought patterns Before I could stop complaining out loud, I had to catch what was happening inside my head. I started keeping a little note whenever I felt the urge to gripe, just to see what was actually triggering me. Sometimes I’ll challenge myself to just one day of mindful speaking. If a negative thought pops up, I try to ask myself, "Is there anything I can actually change here?" If the answer is no, I just try to gently shift my focus to something else.
  • Pausing before I speak I’ve started trying to build a little "pause" into my conversations, especially when I’m stressed or annoyed. Before I let a complaint fly, I take a second to ask myself: Is this true? Is it necessary? Is it kind? Is now actually a good time to say it? It doesn’t always work, but it’s helped me avoid saying things I might regret later.
  • Being mindful of who I’m venting to Because I really value deep, honest connections, I have a habit of being an open book. But since my inner circle is small, I realized my constant venting was often landing on the same few people. I’ve had to learn to ask myself if I’m just dumping my frustration on a friend or if I’m actually looking for a supportive conversation. It’s made a big difference in how I show up for the people I love.
  • Turning my idealism into action I really like Bowen’s idea that a complaint is basically a "problem" with no intention to fix it. If I can’t change a situation, I’m learning to just let it be. But if I can change it, I try to turn my energy into action. For example, instead of just grumbling about the meal, I’ll try to frame it positively: "The stir-fry is great, and I think a little extra lemon would really make the flavors pop!" It feels much better to be a "fixer" than just a "complainer."

Final Words 

As an INFP, I’ve learned that there’s a big gap between how my brain thinks about 'suggestions' and how other people hear them. What I see as an honest way to make things better, they often hear as a complaint. And, while I started trying to bridge that gap for the benefit of my relationships, it has actually made me feel much more peaceful and optimistic about life.  I’ve found that the less I complain about the world around me, the more I focus on being present and grateful. This alone makes the practice of not complaining—even when we fall off the wagon—well worth the effort.

Rachel Markowitz

Rachel Markowitz is a freelance writer, certified yoga and meditation instructor (500-hour YTT) and long-term traveler, currently living in India. She's been facilitating classes, workshops and retreats related to self-exploration and alternative ways of living around the world for over a decade. She earned a BA in Economics from the University of Cincinnati (and also studied international business in Denmark, specialty coffee in Colombia, energy medicine in Guatemala, and Tibetan Buddhism in Nepal). Personality tests label her an INFP and an Individualist.