in the moderate Aristotelian city

I've been meaning to write this post for a while.

It's partly because I'm quickly coming to realise that making my feelings on advice clear is surprisingly crucial to me feeling safe in my own journal-space. It's also partly because it's a useful thing to know about me more generally. And posting here not only has the benefit of explaining it once, in once place, so I can link to it, but also of getting me to talk about it so I maybe get some more clarity on it myself.

The basic position is this: I do not like unsolicited advice.

There are lots of reasons for this, some of which I'll cover below. The most key points, I guess, are that I use my journal as a place to process things for myself and that I tend to ask for advice on specific topics when I need it.

I often post about things in my life that are hard, painful or unresolved. I know that many of my readers are good-hearted people who will read these posts and want to contribute something meaningful, to offer a fix. And I appreciate this impulse and the caring behind it, but I still do not like advice unless I have asked for it. If you read something of mine, and it makes you want to help, thank you; I'd ask that you express it in a different way. Offers of hugs, sympathy, or just saying that you hear me: all of that is great. But anything that begins with "You should" or "You just need to" or "Why don't you" or "Have you tried" doesn't land well with me.

I do sometimes ask for advice. When I do ask for advice, I do my best to communicate exactly what advice I am asking for. If you're not sure whether or not I want advice, or whether I want advice on the thing you've got advice for, please ask me.

In summary: please, please do not give me advice. It pushes a really big button which I would prefer to avoid.

There's more under the cut, which is my processing about the nature of this pattern and is totally optional.

( Advice. )