Unsolicited advice can be hurtful

Kat, a white woman, kneeling in a semi yoga position on a slackline. The slackline is over a beach and there is a beautiful sunset filled with oranges, pinks and purples over the sea in the background. Kat is wearing a short beach dress and a pair of glasses and looks slightly wobbly. This unsolicited advice (trying yoga) is something she has tried regularly!
Yes I’ve tried yoga – on the grouna and on a slackline!

“Yoga might cure you?”

“You should try a vegan diet”

“Have you tried meditating when you have a panic attack?”

When you are chronically ill or disabled, people often try and give you helpful advice or tips on how to get better or how to deal with certain symptoms. A lot of this advice is well meaning and the intention behind it is to help somebody who is sick to suffer less. However, as a sick person, receiving unsolicited advice can feel quite hurtful, even when we know the advice offered is well intentioned. So I thought I would break down the implications of regularly receiving unsolicited advice for someone with a chronic illness or mental health condition.

It can come across as condescending

The chances are that, if you live with a chronic illness/disability, you have, over the years you’ve been sick, spent a lot of time researching your condition. I know that for me, in my seven years of being sick I have yet to have a professional actually explain to me what is happening in my body. That means that I have had to spend a lot of time reading up on and researching exactly what is happening to me. At the same time, I have spent hours looking for “cures”, and more recently looking for things that could reduce my symptoms a little bit. In fact, I would consider myself to be a bit of an expert on my illness.

When someone offers advice on things that could help with an illness, unless they happen to be a medical specialist, it is likely that it is something that the sick person has already researched and already knows about. Again, in my experience, I have had people suggest very basic things to me like “drink more water”, “go to bed earlier”, etc. All of which are fairly obvious and more than a little condescending to assume that I haven’t tried, and don’t still do! It’s not to say that I know more than everyone about my illness; I don’t, but I definitely know more than a lot of the people trying to give me advice!!

It assumes that I’m not trying to help myself

A lot of the time, as sick people, we don’t tell everybody all of the things we are doing to help ourselves and to help reduce our symptoms. We just get on with the things the work and ditch the things that don’t. Often I don’t even tell the people closest to me because I don’t even really think about it. But when someone suggests something for me to try (particularly when it is something I’ve already tried) it almost erases all of the time, energy and work I put into looking after myself, because it shows quite how unaware this person is of how much of my life is spent trying not to be sicker than I already am and how much work I put into my body.

This can be even more hurtful at times when we reach out for support that we need (for instance in times of a crisis), and instead of giving us the support we ask for, people suggest things to help that we are already doing. More recently I spoke to someone who reached out to a friend during a panic attack, and they were told to try listening to guided meditations whilst having a panic attack, which they had already tried, but sometimes it just wasn’t enough! I think the underlying assumption of this is that people think that they know our bodies and what we need to do better than we do, when in reality is extremely unlikely. And when we are asking for a specific kind of support and, instead, receive advice about what we can do better, it is hurtful.

It suggests I’m not trying hard enough

I think the hardest thing for me about receiving unsolicited advice is that you end up receiving so much of it, and so much conflicting advice, that it can make you feel like you aren’t doing enough to get better and that, ultimately, if you just tried harder you would get better. It puts a weird responsibility on the sick person to constantly be aiming for a cure, when in reality a lot of chronic illnesses are currently incurable, life-long conditions – but people struggle to accept this reality because, frankly, it is quite a scary thing to accept.

Many chronically ill people, myself included, have at points in our sickness felt like it is our fault that we are still sick; as if we choose to be sick and cannot want to be well – because if we did, we would try anything (and trust me I’ve tried some wacky things to get better!). This can also lead to the feeling that being sick is a personal failing, as opposed to something natural that happens to people, or something that happens as a consequence of things out of their control. A lot of the shame and guilt that many people with chronic illnesses feel about being sick comes out of this idea that we can control our illnesses – if only we can find a way to cure ourselves or care for ourselves better. Receiving an endless supply of well-intentioned advice just reinforces the idea that we should be managing our illnesses better, and that other people would potentially have managed better and tried harder to recover. Getting through the day is already hard enough when you are sick, without adding a weight of shame and guilt.

At the end of the day, what has helped me the most in managing my condition and living some sort of life with my illness, has been trying to learn to accept my new reality (which is an ongoing process!). Instead of spending all my time and energy looking for and trying new cures, and then pinning all of my hopes on something, only to be disappointed, using the little energy I have to live some sort of life has been much more beneficial for my mental health. And sometimes it has felt as if I have come much further in accepting my illness than some of the people around me. Being given unsolicited advice on how to get better has sometimes felt more as if they simply cannot accept my new reality!

Sometimes we just want support

I think this is perhaps more broadly applicable than just for chronically ill people, but it definitely falls under the unsolicited advice topic. Sometimes, when we complain about being sick, or express emotions about being sick, all we want is support, and somebody to agree that it is horrible. And I think sometimes when people don’t want to see others in pain, they jump straight in with advice, instead of actually listening and empathising.

This is definitely something I used to do, but over the years, with my partner, we began to ask each other when the other was expressing emotions, whether we wanted support or advice. That way we could be there to help think through ideas and ways to improve a situation or a symptom if needed but, equally, when somebody just wants a hug and a shoulder to cry on, we were able to be there for them and not make them feel inadequate by offering advice about something they were struggling with when they already felt vulnerable. And I think this differentiation is important, because sometimes all we want is a hug.

We can’t control everything

I found that stopping giving unsolicited advice, and asking if people wanted advice at all, before giving it, was a very difficult thing to do. I always wanted to be there and help with concrete suggestions.

However, we don’t always know better than somebody else what they should be doing – in fact often we don’t. And even if we do, often people just have to learn the lesson for themselves – just as we did.

Through being sick, I have learnt that we don’t have control over everything in our lives, and we don’t need to have control over everything. Feeling like you have advice for every situation, or know a way to rememdy it gives this comforting illusion of control over important things like our health. But certainly, where illness is concerned, few people have as much control over their health as is commonly believed. Realising and accepting that is difficult and scary, but so useful!

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