The question was directed at me. The endearment tagged on the end was meant to take the sting off. That, and the fact that back in those days, in England, every human being was addressed as 'love'. Not a bad idea, actually. Doesn't stress the memory, good vibes, etcetera. But I digress.

I was a little kid, being nicely reprimanded by my mother. But the message was clear and "why don't you find something to complain about?" taught me an important thing or two early on. My young mind begrudgingly lingered there thinking--knowing the reflection was meant to be inside my own head.

The question implied that I was choosing. I, who in that moment was turning to the dark side, was choosing to do so. I was being told I was being a misery. Focusing on the negative. Not only being negative and complaining, but being willful and choiceful about it. Whatever it was that wasn't pleasing me wasn't actually a globally bad experience. It was simply that I was making the choice to feel badly. I was choosing negative. Choosing to be negative, choosing to complain, was only one of many options.

So now I know. Choosing to complain is a choice I make. And now you know too!