The Weight of Unsolicited advice

Last week, I had a conversation with a friend who had started making significant progress in her fitness journey. As someone who has been trying to become fitter for as long as I can remember, she began instructing me to do what she does because she felt like it was “time” now.

This wasn’t the first time I felt like someone was telling me what I should be doing with my life. I know it comes from a place of love and care, but sometimes it makes me feel as though people think they know how to live my life better than I do.

But the truth is, no one can know what is best for me except me, because I’m the only one who truly knows what I go through.

In general, I think because I’m quiet and soft-spoken, people often mistake that for uncertainty. As though speaking softly means I must not know what I’m doing.

I appreciate that people feel comfortable enough to share their opinions with me, but I have a voice too. A softer voice does not reflect a lack of wisdom, confidence, or self-awareness. I know what I’m capable of, and I know where I need to challenge myself.

That is not to say I reject advice altogether. In fact, some of the greatest gems of wisdom I have received have come from the people I love most. When I seek guidance from those whose opinions I value, I remain deeply open to receiving it. But unsolicited advice can sometimes pinch, especially when it feels more diminishing than encouraging, even if that was never the intention behind it.

Somewhere along the way, we started associating loudness with certainty and softness with weakness. But a louder voice does not make someone wiser than a quieter one.