You know that friend who always has a solution for everything? The one who can’t let you finish complaining about your terrible day before they’re already telling you exactly what you should do about it? Yeah, you might be that friend. And here’s the uncomfortable truth: your friends are probably getting tired of it.
There’s something deeply human about wanting to help the people we care about. When we see our friends struggling, our instinct is to swoop in with answers, to fix things, to make their lives better. It feels like love, like friendship, like the right thing to do. But here’s what we often miss: most of the time, people aren’t looking for solutions. They’re looking for someone to simply hear them, to validate their feelings, to sit with them in their frustration or confusion without immediately trying to make it go away.
Think about the last time you vented to someone about a problem. Maybe it was work stress, relationship drama, or just one of those days where everything felt overwhelming. How did it feel when the person immediately started telling you what you should do? Did it feel supportive, or did it feel a little dismissive? Like they were rushing past your feelings to get to the part where they could showcase their wisdom?The thing about unsolicited advice is that it carries an implicit message: “I know better than you do about your own life.” Even when that’s not what we mean, even when we genuinely just want to help, that’s often how it lands. It suggests that the solution is obvious, that the person just hasn’t thought hard enough, that they need you to think for them. And that feels patronizing, even when it’s coming from a place of genuine care.
Your friends are adults who have made it this far in life by making their own decisions. They’ve developed their own problem-solving skills, their own intuition, their own sense of what works for them. When you constantly offer advice without being asked, you’re essentially saying you don’t trust their judgment. You’re positioning yourself as the wise one and them as someone who needs constant guidance. That’s not a dynamic that builds closeness; it’s one that breeds resentment.
There’s also the exhaustion factor. Being on the receiving end of constant advice is draining. Every conversation becomes a teaching moment, every struggle becomes an opportunity for someone else to explain how you should handle your life better. You can’t just be messy or confused or imperfect without someone trying to optimize you. Your friends want to be able to share their lives with you without it turning into a consultation session every single time.
And let’s be honest: sometimes the advice isn’t even that good. We tend to overestimate how much we know about other people’s situations. We’re working with limited information, filtered through the lens of our own experiences and biases. What worked for us, or what we think we would do, isn’t necessarily what’s right for someone else. But when we’re in advice-giving mode, we often forget this and speak with unwarranted confidence about situations we only partially understand.
The paradox is that when you step back from constantly offering advice, you often become more helpful, not less. When you listen without immediately jumping to solutions, people feel heard. They feel less alone. And in that space of being truly listened to, they often figure out their own answers. Or they feel comfortable enough to actually ask for your input if they want it. The advice you give when someone asks for it lands completely differently than the advice you give when nobody requested it.
This doesn’t mean you can never offer perspective or share your thoughts. Friendship involves exchanging ideas and supporting each other. But there’s a massive difference between occasionally offering thoughtful input when asked and making yourself the unofficial life coach of your friend group. One is a gift; the other is a burden.So what should you do instead? Listen more than you speak. Ask questions that help your friend think through things rather than telling them what to think. Validate their feelings before rushing to fix the problem. And when you do have thoughts to share, ask permission first: “Do you want my take on this, or do you just need to vent?” That simple question transforms the dynamic from you imposing your wisdom to you offering support on their terms.
Your friends don’t need you to have all the answers. They need you to be present, to care about what they’re going through, to treat them like capable people who sometimes just need someone in their corner. Save the advice for when it’s truly invited, and you might find your friendships become deeper and more honest. Because the truth is, nobody wants a friendship that feels like a self-improvement seminar. They want connection, understanding, and someone who trusts them enough to figure things out in their own way and their own time.
