There is a general saying in this part of the world (Africa) that: “It takes one person to birth a child, but it takes the whole village to nurture him. “
If you grew up in this part of the world, you will understand that unsolicited advice is the tax we pay for having people who love us.
Especially when you are a first-time mum, you automatically don’t know how to do anything!
You know that feeling. You casually mention it in a family gathering that your sister-in-law should not feed your baby with water or anything else because you’re exclusively breastfeeding your baby.
Suddenly, everyone at the table turns into a life coach. “Really? If that’s how you were raised…” “Back in my day, we just…” “Have you thought about…”
And just like that, your appetite is gone, and you’re counting down the minutes until you can escape to your car.
If this sounds familiar, welcome here.
Unsolicited advice from the people who love us most is one of those universal human experiences that nobody really prepares you for.
Today I want to talk about how to handle it without snapping, without guilt-tripping yourself, or without damaging the relationships that actually matter to you.
I’ve been there more times than I can count.
When I told my family I was leaving a “good” corporate job to freelance, you would’ve thought I announced I was joining the circus.
The concerns, the horror stories, the advice – it was a lot!
Looking back, most of it came from love.
But at the time? It made me doubt every single decision I was making.
Why Do They Feel the Need to Advise Us?
Here’s the thing: most of the time, it really does come from a good place.
Your parents watched you skin your knees as a kid, and they still want to protect you from bigger falls.
Your best friend, who went through a brutal divorce, doesn’t want you to make what she sees as the same mistake.
Your aunt, who’s “always been good with money,” wants to save you from her regrets.
Neighbors whose babies still get hungry after being breastfed feel that only breast milk can not be enough for a child.
But sometimes it’s less pure.
Sometimes it’s about control.
Sometimes it’s projection – their fears, their disappointments, their “what if I had done it differently” stories dressed up as wisdom for you.
And sometimes people just like hearing themselves talk.
Because that is the only explanation I can give a friend who told me I should work on my tommy after posting a picture of my son’s baptism.
In her opinion, men don’t like it when their wives lose shape after birth, and it might make them start looking outside for other women with perfect shape.
In my mind, I was like, “Girl, my husband is not yours, deal with your fear in peace.”
I’ve learned that understanding this doesn’t make the advice less annoying in the moment, but it does help you respond with less anger and more clarity.
When your mom starts telling you how to raise your strong-willed toddler, remembering that she raised kids in a completely different era (and probably felt judged, too) can soften your reaction just enough to keep the peace.
How It Messes with Your Head
The real danger isn’t the advice itself — it’s what it does to your confidence over time.
You start second-guessing everything.
Things as simple as backing your baby become overwhelming, because you can’t walk 20 steps on the street without somehow telling you to adjust your baby’s head.
And when you use a baby carrier, the looks on the older folks’ faces make you feel like you’re doing something wrong.
That business idea you were excited about? Suddenly, it feels reckless.
That parenting style that was working for your kid? Now you’re wondering if you’re ruining them.
Even small decisions start feeling like they need a family committee’s approval.
And let’s be honest – it creates resentment.
You start avoiding sharing good news or big decisions with the very people you want to be close to.
That distance hurts everyone.
Practical Ways to Protect Your Peace
After years of trial and error (and a fair amount of passive-aggressive comments I’m not proud of), here are the things that actually help:
1. Set boundaries before you even need them
I’ve started doing this when I share something vulnerable: “I’m still figuring this out, and I’d really love your support and encouragement right now.
Advice might overwhelm me, but I promise I’ll ask if I need it.”
It feels awkward at first, but it works.
Most people actually respect clear requests once they understand how their well-meaning input is landing.
2. Master the art of the polite non-answer
Some of my favorites:
- “Interesting, I’ll think about that.”
- “Thanks for sharing your experience.”
- “We’re still in the early stages, but I appreciate you caring.”
Then immediately change the subject. “Anyway, how’s the new grandbaby doing?” Works like a charm with most relatives.
3. Have the bigger conversation (when you’re calm)
This one is hard but powerful.
Pick a low-stress moment and say something like: “I know you give me advice because you love me, and I’m grateful for that.
But when I get a lot of unsolicited opinions, it makes me feel like I can’t make good decisions on my own.
I need to practice trusting myself more. Can we work on that together?”
Framing it as a “we” problem instead of “you’re doing something wrong” makes it much more likely to be received well.
4. Build your own inner confidence muscle
This is the long game, but it’s everything.
I started journaling my reasons for big decisions — not for anyone else, but for me.
When the doubt creeps in later, I can go back and remember why I chose what I chose.
Having one neutral person in your corner who isn’t emotionally invested in your choices is pure gold.
Also, find your people.
The ones who say “That sounds scary and exciting – how can I support you?” instead of immediately listing all the reasons it might not work.
Protect time with them.
The key is learning to separate caring concern from control.
Real love respects your right to make choices — even ones they disagree with. Control doesn’t.
5. Don’t announce what you are experiencing too early
This was the coping mechanism I used when I got pregnant with my six-month-old baby.
I knew the awareness would create unnecessary attention and unsolicited advice from families, friends, and colleagues, so for the first trimester, I kept the news and moved quietly, even until the fourth month.
I can’t shout!
When You Should Actually Listen?
Not all advice is bad.
Some of it has saved me from real mistakes.
The trick is discernment.
I listen more carefully when the person has recent, relevant experience in the exact area I’m struggling with.
I listen less when their advice is rooted in fear or outdated realities.
And I rarely take broad life advice from someone whose own life I wouldn’t want to emulate.
You’re allowed to take what resonates and leave the rest. No explanation needed.
The Lighter Side (Because We Need It)
My friend started a running group chat called “Unsolicited Advice Hall of Fame.”
Every time someone gets a ridiculous comment, they screenshot and share.
The laughter helps. Sometimes you have to choose between losing your mind and finding the comedy in it.
I’m also learning to lead by example.
When my friends, nieces, and nephews share their plans, I’ve trained myself to ask first: “Do you want me to just listen and cheer you on, or do you actually want my thoughts?”
It’s changing how we support each other.
You’re Not Obligated to Take Their Advice
At the end of the day, this is your one precious life.
Not your mom’s second chance.
Not your best friend’s cautionary tale. Not your uncle’s “if I knew then what I know now” remix.
You’re allowed to make choices that don’t make sense to anyone else.
You’re allowed to fail and learn.
You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to protect your peace.
The people who truly love you will adjust when they see you thriving.
And the ones who don’t? That says way more about them than about you.
So next time the advice starts flowing, take a deep breath. Smile if you can.
Set your boundary if you need to.
And remember – you’ve got this. Even when it feels like no one else believes you do.
What’s the most memorable unsolicited advice you’ve ever received? How did you handle it (or how do you wish you’d handled it)?
Drop your stories and survival tips in the comments.
Let’s support each other through the noise.
Victoria cares
💕💕🥰