One morning, when I must have been 7 or 8 years old, I got a major spanking from my mother. As Papa was travelling, I had no recourse but to lick my wounds in my room.

It was a holiday, so I decided that an extended bout of self-pity wasn’t the best way to spend the day. So, when my friend called me to play, I jumped at the offer.

Mummy was busy in the kitchen, and on my way out, I told her my whereabouts for the next couple of hours.

Not sure why, but I also mustered the courage to tell her that she wasn’t being a good mother. She was responsible for my happiness—but all she did was make me unhappy. I said this didn’t seem fair, and that she shouldn’t have had me if she was planning to keep me unhappy all year round.

I hoped that stung—but after saying this, I quickly ran off (in case she resorted to any untoward follow-up action).

I forgot all about this outburst after a brilliant session with my friends at the park, returning just in time for lunch. She placed the food on the table and asked me to wash my hands.

Then, out of the blue, she said, “You are responsible for it.”

Confused, I asked, “What do you mean?”

She sat down next to me and said, “You are responsible for your happiness. If you expect others to do this for you, you are going to be a very unhappy soul.”

“This is not all,” she continued. “You are also responsible for not creating unhappiness for others.”

Looking at her demeanour, I felt we could take this further. So I told her that the first bit seemed grossly unfair, and the second didn’t make any sense at all.

She then told me something I’ve carried with me all these years—true happiness lies within. We don’t necessarily need big incidents, gifts, or events to feel happy. Appreciating small things—the sunrise, the first cup of tea, listening to music, or reading a book—can bring happiness, and all of these are within our control.

Tiny nuggets of happiness are all around us. We just need to spot them, pick them up, and keep our cup of happiness full.

It took me years to fully understand what she had meant that day. What felt unfair then now feels like quiet wisdom. The moment we start expecting others to “make” us happy, we begin outsourcing something that was always ours to own.