Note 039
I was watching a clip from a therapist on YouTube the other day, and she said something so simple that I had to stop and think about it.
“Stop taking advice from people who haven’t experienced where you want to go.”
Simple, right?
But my overthinking mind immediately started running with it.
She gave an example that made perfect sense.
She said if you want to go to Paris, why would you keep asking someone who has never been on a plane how to get there?
Exactly.
They may have an opinion.
They may have heard stories.
They may have watched videos.
They may even have good intentions.
But they haven’t been to Paris.
They don’t know what it’s like to navigate the airport, get through customs, find transportation, figure out the language, or actually walk the streets of Paris.
They can care about you.
They can encourage you.
They can even want the best for you.
But they don’t have the experience you’re asking them to speak from.
And I think this applies to so many areas of life.
Be mindful of who you’re asking.
If you’re trying to understand marriage, a married person’s perspective is going to be different from someone who has never been married.
If you’re trying to navigate parenthood, a parent is going to have a different perspective than someone who has never raised a child.
If you’re trying to enter a particular career or industry, there is value in speaking with someone who is actually working in that field.
If you’re trying to build a business, talk to someone who has built one.
If you’re trying to improve your finances, learn from someone who understands the financial goal you’re trying to reach.
If you’re trying to change your life, sometimes you need to sit with people who have already made the changes you’re contemplating.
Not because they know everything.
They don’t.
But because they’ve walked some portion of the road you’re considering.
And that matters.
Sometimes people will talk you out of the very thing you’re trying to accomplish.
Not necessarily because they’re jealous.
Not necessarily because they don’t love you.
Sometimes it’s simply because they can’t see what they haven’t experienced.
Imagine telling someone you want to run a marathon when they’ve never run a mile.
They might immediately tell you how difficult it sounds.
“That’s a lot of running.”
“I don’t know how you’re going to do that.”
“That’s going to take so much time.”
“Why would you put yourself through that?”
And technically…
They aren’t wrong.
It will be difficult.
But they’re speaking from the perspective of someone standing outside the experience.
Someone who has run marathons can tell you something different.
They can tell you about training.
The shoes.
The soreness.
The mental discipline.
The setbacks.
The early mornings.
The days you don’t want to run.
And also…
what it feels like to cross that finish line.
That’s the difference.
There is a reason people who have walked similar roads find one another.
Think about certain communities.
Entrepreneurs gravitate toward entrepreneurs.
Athletes understand athletes.
Artists understand artists.
Parents understand certain parenting experiences.
People who have built careers in the same industries often understand the language, expectations and unspoken rules that come with those spaces.
It’s not always about status.
It’s about shared experience.
There’s a certain shorthand that develops when you’ve lived something.
You understand the language.
The verbal.
And sometimes the nonverbal.
You understand the sacrifice that comes with the reward.
You understand what people don’t necessarily see from the outside.
And sometimes that’s exactly the person you need to talk to.
But here’s where I think we need to be careful.
I’m not saying you should completely dismiss advice from people who haven’t experienced what you’re trying to accomplish.
That would be too simplistic.
Sometimes the person who hasn’t walked your road can see something you can’t.
Sometimes a completely different perspective is exactly what you need.
And sometimes the person who has experienced what you’re going through can give terrible advice.
Experience doesn’t automatically equal wisdom.
That’s important.
So this isn’t about deciding who is qualified to have an opinion.
It’s about becoming more intentional about whose opinion you allow to influence your decisions.
Because there is a difference between asking someone for perspective and allowing someone else’s limitations to become your limitations.
And then I thought about grief.
This one hit me differently.
I lost my father at an early age.
And when someone loses someone they love, people naturally want to comfort them.
“I understand your pain.”
“I know what you’re going through.”
“I understand what you’re feeling.”
Most of the time, it’s coming from a good place.
People want you to know that you’re not alone.
But I once had someone say something to me that I will never forget.
They told me:
“I empathize with you, but I don’t understand because I still have my father.”
And you know what?
I respected that honesty.
Because they weren’t pretending.
They weren’t trying to tell me they understood an experience they hadn’t lived.
They were saying:
I care about you. I can empathize with your pain. But I don’t know this particular pain.
That’s a powerful distinction.
And years later, when my husband lost his father, he said something that made me understand just how different lived experience can be.
He said:
“Now I know what you feel like.”
He wasn’t saying he suddenly understood every detail of my experience.
He was acknowledging that he had now entered a place he previously could only observe from the outside.
And there are some experiences you simply cannot fully understand until you’ve lived them.
Empathy, sympathy and experience aren’t the same thing.
We can care about someone without understanding exactly what they’re experiencing.
We can listen without having the answer.
We can support someone without pretending we’ve walked their road.
And we can acknowledge:
“I haven’t experienced this, so I’m not going to pretend I know exactly what you should do.”
That’s actually a beautiful form of humility.
And perhaps we need more of it.
So here’s my note.
Before you make a major decision based on someone’s advice, ask yourself:
Have they actually been where I’m trying to go?
Do they understand the road?
Have they experienced the sacrifices?
Have they dealt with the consequences?
Have they learned the lessons?
Do they have something valuable to offer beyond an opinion?
And most importantly:
Am I taking their advice because it is wise—or because I am afraid and looking for permission to stay where I am?
Ooooh.
Now that’s a question for the overthinkers.
Because sometimes we’re not really looking for advice.
We’re looking for someone to confirm what we already believe.
Or we’re looking for someone to tell us that the thing we’re afraid to do isn’t worth doing.
And if we ask enough people who haven’t been where we’re going, eventually somebody will give us a reason not to go.
But remember…
They may simply be describing their road, not yours.
Your dream may not make sense to them.
Your next step may look risky to them.
Your goals may seem unrealistic.
Your choices may be completely different from theirs.
That’s okay.
You don’t need everyone to understand where you’re going.
You just need to be thoughtful about who you let help you get there.
So listen.
Learn.
Ask questions.
Gather perspectives.
But be intentional about the voices you give the most weight to.
Because sometimes the person sitting beside you has never seen the destination you’re trying to reach.
And that’s okay.
Just don’t let their unfamiliarity with the destination convince you that you shouldn’t go.
A Note for Today
Take advice from people who can help you navigate the road—not people who are asking you to turn around because they’ve never been there.
And if someone tells you, “I don’t know what that’s like, but I’m here for you,”…
Don’t underestimate how valuable that honesty can be.
Until the next note,
Your Resident Overthinker