Underneath
What's going on underneath #
Three things that tend to sit under the words.
Giving advice also costs something: you think about the other person's situation, imagine yourself in it, sometimes put your own opinion on the line.
For some people it started with an elder whose advice was treated as the way things were done: a grandmother whose opinion settled the matter, an aunt whose view on a decision was asked for before anything was finalised.
Underneath, a rule can sit: “If someone asks for my help, they owe it a hearing,” or “Asking and then ignoring is a kind of disrespect.”
Reactions
What people often do #
- Give the advice in more detail the second time, hoping it sticks
- Ask how it went, without asking whether they took it
- Say “whatever you think” while quietly rating the outcome
- Say what you think once, plainly, and leave it there
- Offer advice before being asked, just in case it helps sooner
The deck
The story in 6 cards #
Six short cards, from the moment to letting go.
The same story, the same advice
A late call on a Tuesday in Sydney. Your friend is upset about her flatmate again, the same story as last month. You give the same advice you gave last month, carefully, kindly. She says 'yeah, fair, I should'. Two weeks later nothing has changed, and she rings with the same story. You listen, but something in you goes tight, and a sigh escapes you before she has even finished.
Asked for advice means taking it
Underneath sits a rule: 'If they ask for my advice, they should take it.' It sounds sensible. Why ask otherwise? But look at what it does: it ties the worth of your care to someone else's choices. Your help only counts if it's followed, and every time a friend goes their own way, it feels like proof that nobody heard you at all.
Why helping is how we show love
We hold it because helping is how many of us show love. Maybe you were the sensible one at home, the one others turned to. Maybe you've watched someone you love make the same mistake again and again, and it hurt to watch. Either way, wanting your advice to land isn't bossy. It comes from wanting the people you care about to be okay. That deserves kindness, not blame.
The frustration each ignored tip leaves
Each ignored piece of advice leaves a small frustration behind. You start counting how often you've said the same thing. You listen less, waiting for your turn to repeat it. Calls with that friend start to feel like work. You lie awake wondering why the advice never lands. And your peace ends up tied to choices that were never yours to make.
Is needing them to listen worth it?
Ask yourself honestly: has repeating the advice ever made them take it? Or has it mostly made the calls harder for both of you? People often need to talk a thing through many times before they act, and some want company more than advice. Either way, their choices aren't the measure of your care. Holding this rule so tightly costs you more than it gives you, call after call.
Their choices are theirs
Letting go doesn't mean you stop caring what happens to them. It means your care is complete when you give it, whether or not it's used. You can offer what you think once, and then simply be there. Their choices stay theirs, and your peace stays yours. That's where some peace comes back: you can be a good friend without being in charge of the outcome.
If a friend's choices have you worried about their safety, that is separate from wanting to be followed, and worth taking seriously.
The flip
The old rule, and a new one to try #
The old ruleIf they ask for my advice, they should take it.
A new rule to tryMy care counts. Their choices are theirs.
Three small days
Try it for 3 days #
- Day 1
When you start to repeat your advice, stop and take a breath
- Day 2
Think of one choice that is theirs to make, not yours
- Day 3
In your next chat, just enjoy the company
Want to talk it through?
“Who has used something you told them, and how did you find out?”
Free and private. No sign-up to start. The chat opens with this question.
Everything this deck knows
Go deeper #
What it sounds like, where it comes from, what it costs, and other ways to see it. Every question opens a chat on it.
How it lands
What was said
An hour on the phone, and the same plan again #
A friend rings, asks what you would do, and you give them the real answer, with care, after thinking it over. Weeks later they are doing something else entirely. The sentence arrives quietly: “My friends should take the advice they ask me for.”
For some people, underneath it sits a simple wish: that the time and thought you gave counted for something. Advice is a small gift made of attention, and it is natural to hope the gift gets opened.
When did a friend last act on something you said, and how did you find out it had mattered?Talk about this ›
The first few seconds
The moment you hear what they did instead #
Some people feel a brief tightening around the jaw when they learn the plan went another way. Others feel a low flatness, like a message left on read, followed by an urge to say something that isn't quite kind.
The body tends to react to being passed over before the mind has weighed what the friend might have had on their plate. Heat, a sigh, a hand reaching for the phone, all arrive ahead of understanding.
The last time a friend went another way, what did your body do in the opening moments, before you decided what to say?Talk about this ›
Why it lands
Asking for advice is a form of trust #
This hope has real sense in it. When someone asks what you would do, they are saying they value your view, and it is reasonable to feel puzzled when the answer is set aside without a word.
Giving advice also costs something: you think about the other person's situation, imagine yourself in it, sometimes put your own opinion on the line. After all that effort, silence about the outcome can feel like a door closing quietly.
What did you put into the last piece of advice you gave a friend, and what were you hoping it would do?Talk about this ›
The voice inside
The voice that files the unheeded #
“I told them exactly what to do.” “Why ask me at all?” “Next time I'll keep it short.” The voice tends to wake up when a friend mentions a decision, or when the same difficulty comes round for another telling.
Some people notice the voice has an odd twin, a pleased little “I knew it” when things go awkwardly for the friend, followed by a rush of embarrassment. Both belong to caring and wanting to be right at once.
When the voice files an ignored suggestion, which one does it keep at the top of the pile, and why that one?Talk about this ›
Where it comes from
Where it can come from
Where advice came to mean care #
For some people it started with an elder whose advice was treated as the way things were done: a grandmother whose opinion settled the matter, an aunt whose view on a decision was asked for before anything was finalised.
For others it came from being the one friends turn to, the sensible one, the one with a plan. Being asked grew into being relied upon, and being relied upon grew into expecting the advice to be followed.
Who first made you feel your advice carried weight, and what did they do with it afterwards?Talk about this ›
The belief under it
The rule behind giving advice #
Underneath, a rule can sit: “If someone asks for my help, they owe it a hearing,” or “Asking and then ignoring is a kind of disrespect.” The first sounds like politeness; the rule underneath turns each decision of theirs into a reply to you.
A rule like this grows out of taking friendship seriously, which is worth respecting. It can be looked at beside real friends, who ask to think aloud as often as they ask for a verdict.
A rule like this sometimes has early roots, and sometimes it doesn't.
Where does “asking means listening” fit a friendship well, and where is it asking more than the question did?Talk about this ›
What it costs
What it costs
What waiting to be followed can cost #
It can mean an advice call that ends with a small sour taste, and evenings spent re-running your own reasoning.
When advice becomes the test, each friend's choice reads as a verdict, and conversations that used to be easy start to carry a quiet pressure. The pleasure of just talking things over can slip away.
Not from vanity: wanting your effort to count is ordinary.
Over the past year, which piece of advice weighed on you longest, and what did it take from your week?Talk about this ›
If it stays as it is
The same question, five years on #
Settle on one ordinary evening, on a day when “my friends should take the advice they ask me for” is loud. What is in it: a call, a plan you suggested, a message mentioning the same thing again? The picture is only there to look at; nothing in it needs fixing.
Perhaps a friend describing a difficulty you have heard before, the old suggestion rising to your lips, a long pause, a careful “mm”, and a call that ends kindly.
Nothing here asks for an answer, and the picture can be put down whenever you like. Looking at that evening, what, if anything, do you notice?
What else is in that evening?Talk about this ›
Another way to see it
Another way to see it
Asking can mean several things #
A friend who asks “what should I do?” may be hoping for an answer, or for someone to hear themselves think out loud, or for company while they already lean one way. From outside it is hard to tell which kind of question it was.
People also tend to weigh a lot at once, including things they haven't mentioned. None of this settles whether the hope is fair. It makes it a hope that meets someone else's whole situation, only part of which you can see.
Of everything “taking my advice” would give you, which part matters most: the result, the sign it was valued, or knowing the thinking was welcome?Talk about this ›
What is already there
The advice that did find a home #
Next to the advice that was set aside, there may be times it did land: a friend who quietly did what you suggested, a “you were right about that” months later, a story where your words show up in how they handled something.
Those times can sit beside the advice that was set aside, and the wish to be taken seriously stays a fair one. Noticing is your own to do, whenever you like.
Which small moment can you recall of a friend, or anyone in your week, using something you said, and what would you like to hold on to about it?Talk about this ›
Making peace
Advice given, and the evening still yours #
Setting this hope down gently doesn't mean deciding it was too much, or that your advice was wrong. It means a friend's choice stops deciding your mood, and what you offered can stay a good thing offered.
Wanting basic respect and safety is never too much, for you or for them. Being threatened, followed or tracked, kept from other people, controlled through money, pushed to become someone else, or made afraid is something else, and worth taking seriously; going along or being careful can be the safe choice there.
If a friend's choices have you worried about their safety, that is separate from wanting to be followed, and worth taking seriously. When a friend keeps going back to something that is hurting them, that is common, and staying in their life can matter more than whether the advice is taken.
Picture the evening after a long call, once the advice is given: what do you do with the next quarter of an hour, and how does it feel?Talk about this ›
A truer sentence
A truer line for the unheeded #
Beside “My friends should take the advice they ask me for”, some people keep a line like this ready: “I gave an honest answer, and what they do with it is theirs.” It doesn't need to win, only stand next to the old one.
It can sound cooler than you feel at first. Some people find it softens the evening after a call; others find a warmer phrase of their own does more, and that is fine.
What would a truer sentence be in your own words, one that is honest about wanting your advice to matter without making it a ruling?Talk about this ›
What to let be
The unheeded can rest for a bit #
Not every unheeded suggestion needs chasing. It can be noticed, felt, and left to rest, like a bookmark left in a paperback.
A hope that your care makes a difference can stay private for as long as you like. If anyone frightens, tracks or controls you, that is another matter, worth taking seriously, and being careful can be the safe choice.
Resting it doesn't mean it was fine, or that it's settled. It only means the question doesn't have to ride along with you tonight.
If it loosened
And if the hope eased, even a notch #
Try, as a picture only, turning the expectation down a single notch. The wish for your care to matter is still there, but one set-aside suggestion can be one busy week for them.
A small thing can be plenty, such as listening to the same worry once more without rehearsing the answer, a walk after a call, or a favourite programme watched without replaying the advice.
None of this has to be told to anybody. What comes up is yours to look at. Up next: what making peace with this hope might look like, and what is already there.
What is the first small shift you notice?Talk about this ›
Which small thing would come first for you?Talk about this ›
Small things to try
Something to try
A few small things people try #
- Notice, privately, the difference between “I gave a view” and “I hoped for a result”
- Think of a time you ignored good advice, and what was going on for you then
- Ask yourself what you were hoping your advice would do for you, not only for them
- Let a thought about a friend's choice pass by once without replaying it
- Notice one piece of advice you were glad to receive and could have easily ignored
All of these are private, and all optional. Pick whatever suits.
Pick a question
Talk it through #
Tap one. A chat with Dr. Thoughts opens on that question: free, private, no sign-up to start.
- Who has used something you told them, and how did you find out?
- What was the best piece of advice you ever gave, and what made it good?
- When did someone else's advice help you only after a long delay?
- If the hope that friends follow your advice loosened a little, what might feel different first?
- What do friends already do with your care that you would like to notice more?