I had fun. Full stop.

This is a blog about a bad habit.

It’s a bad habit that has crept in so quietly that you might not notice, but even so, it takes a little bit of the joy out of every event. And it starts out small, but over time, it taints memories of otherwise happy things. What’s worse, my son has started to pick it up, too.

Here it is:

“I had such a great time out tonight with friends! We went to this little local restaurant downtown, it had the prettiest outdoor patio with perfect weather. Of course, the food took so long that I was a bear by the time it hit the table, so that was annoying, and I hate going to restaurants that don’t have their own parking lot; I end up wandering around downtown lost so I don’t know if I’d go back, but otherwise it was pretty good.”

Do you see what happened? My night went from a great time to just okay. By listing off things that could have been better, I discounted what was actually a lovely time. Friends, I do this with everything. Whether it be a family trip, a date with my husband, or a nice night out with girlfriends…

I will find something to complain about.

My fairy godmother could whip me up the perfect gown, send me off to a ball with a prince, and fix the night so that even when that clock struck midnight I’d still be twirling in my glass slippers (or remarkably gorgeous but still comfortable flats because my feet are too old for that business) and I would STILL find something to critique.

But why? Does it serve me in some way? Unless it’s an event that I plan to organize the next time and am taking notes for things that might need a tweak, there isn’t any real reason for me to keep a running list in my head of complaints. There are almost always little background things that could go differently or might make someone happier, but overall, commenting on them is pointless.

In fact, it makes everything feel a little disappointing, like my life in general just lacks the sparkle that everyone else has. Actually, maybe that’s where it started, wanting to discount my own experiences so that others would know that I was struggling with this thing called life, just like them. We could relate to the idea that life could be better.

It wasn’t until my sister called me out on it that I even realized that this had become my habit after every single event or activity I attended. I called her on my drive home one night and told her that I’d been out with friends and it was fun but…

“STOP. Just say you had fun. Why can’t that be it?”Leave it to little sisters to call you out on your bad behavior.

I’d love to say that I got it right away, but I did not. It took me a bit to reflect on what she had said. But there WERE things that could have been better, I justified. I was just being truthful, showing the “raw” behind the sparkly pictures I’d put online later. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Tell the whole story? Pointing out what wasn’t perfect was just keeping it real, or so I thought until I picked up my son from preschool the next morning.

We adore our preschool – they engage my son in ways that I would never dream of and do exciting outdoor adventures every day. His teacher filled me in on their morning of painting with racecars and climbing a fallen tree, and I couldn’t wait to hear things from his little boy perspective. “Joey, tell me about painting with the racecar!”

“It was great! The paint wasn’t the color I exactly wanted and I didn’t get to paint all morning long like I wanted though. So it was kind of a bummer of a morning.” I heard it. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

My nitpicking ways had already started to become a habit for him, stealing joy from a little four-year-old.

I knew I needed to change my behavior, for my sake as well as his.

Changing it was as simple as saying less. I just need to say, “I had a good time,” and then stop talking. I don’t need caveats or qualifiers, I can own the joy in life and let the rest melt into background details that were so unimportant that they quickly become forgettable. It’s unbelievable how quickly this has changed my memories and reflections on life.

I feel more optimistic, and more able to overlook simple life annoyances. Life feels less disappointing and overall more fulfilling. I’m not advocating for a Pollyanna complex here, or polishing turds and calling them gemstones. If something really went wrong, I will still say it. However, if it’s a small thing that really didn’t need saying, then why say it? It’s probably hurtful to people who planned an event and I know it’s stolen some of the happiness from my family when we’ve shared an experience.

Life isn’t perfect, and everyone knows that. There’s no reason to say it. Instead, try just saying that you had fun – Full stop.