I am, I’ll admit, not the most decisive person in the world. So, when I was struggling to decide whether to go ahead with a weekend camping trip or stay at home to attend a class, I turned to my friends. I messaged a few of them to see what they would do: helpfully, they all gave me wildly different responses. And while it was kind of interesting to see what other people would’ve prioritised if they were in my shoes, I think, intuitively I knew what I wanted to do. I stayed at home.
“What do you think about this?” “What would you do?” These are the types of messages I send to my friends for anything ranging from trivial dilemmas to semi-major life decisions. Pathetic, I know. Yet, I am lucky to have friends who I can bounce ideas off and seek help over the most mundane of things.
Towards the end of last year, however, I had a strange epiphany: it finally dawned on me that I was relying on my friends way too much for “advice”.
I started keeping a mental note of how many times I wanted to ask them for their thoughts. Honestly, I was embarrassed by the results. Do I really need sign-offs from friends over sending a message or email that probably won’t matter all that much tomorrow?
So, in the past couple of months, I began a new experiment: I stopped asking my friends for advice.
Not necessarily because I felt like the guidance I had been given was bad, but it was my way of attempting to trust my intuition better and not always doubt my decision-making skills.
What happened? I’m a curious person. I’m fascinated by hearing different perspectives and people’s reasoning which might give you insights you never thought of before. I thought I would miss all that. Lately, however, I’ve felt a distinct change. I’m becoming more self-aware and grounded in myself. I think it has something to do with agency: part of maturing involves having your own convictions and values around how the world functions, or at least, should function. It’s nice to hear different opinions but, ultimately, I should be asking myself: “what do I think is important?” The need to always have someone corroborate or affirm my decisions has died more quickly than I ever thought.
It got me thinking more about that art of giving good advice. These days so many people give others guidance based on their own worldview. Too often it lacks the nuance and subjectivity needed to be effective for each individual. Maybe social media is to blame. I see it all the time online with content being pushed by people who package personal life experiences and lessons as soundbites and a one-size-fits-all approach for people to try to emulate.
I was scrolling through my “for you” page on TikTok and saw a video on “why you should never quit your job without having something else better lined up” where the user talked about their experience struggling to find a better job.
Directly after that I saw another video which said: “I quit my job with nothing lined up and followed my dreams and why you should do the same”. The contrast, and timing, was comedic. Testimonials posed as advice are tricky. There’s never much depth to them and, at the end of the day, they are oddly specific to a particular person and circumstance and lack crucial context. TikTok videos aren’t, to put it mildy, a forum for in-depth discussion.
[ Emer McLysaght: I might remove my cooker and replace it with an air fryer shrineOpens in new window ]
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not advocating entering a realm of seclusion where you should be immune to any form of advice or reject all guidance. This article is definitely not a plea to ask for or ignore advice. I haven’t swapped my uncertainty for pride. Instead, I’m just trying to find new ways to be grounded and assured in myself.
Really good advice can come from anyone at an unsuspected time – and even poor advice can help you reflect on your own decisions or reaffirm your convictions around certain dilemmas.
I think my experiment has been going well. I recently sent a friend a message with a life update. The phrasing was important, as I tried not to outrightly ask: “what should I do?”
Her response felt good: “Do whatever you feel is right and I’ll support you either way.”