Do As I Say, Not As I Do: A Humorous Take on Self-Advice Sabotage
Why is it that we're all walking, talking self-help books for our friends & kids, but when it comes to ourselves, we can't seem to crack open the first page? Let’s dive into the comical irony of being excellent advice gurus to others while being advice-averse in our own lives.
Picture this: you’re the Yoda of your social circle—wise and insightful. Your best friend tells you about their disastrous dating escapades, and you’re there with banners reading, “You deserve better!” Cut to your life, and there you are, romanticizing the 'mysterious' vibe of someone who texts you once in a blue moon. Yes, spotting red flags for others is a breeze, but in our own lives? We might as well be colorblind.
Here’s a classic: “Don’t check his phone; trust is key,” we text our friend. Two seconds later, what are we doing? Operation Phone Check at 2 AM, ensuring that the trust we preach about is... well, verifiable.
We all have that one friend obsessing about their looks, and we tell them, "You're beautiful just as you are!" Fast forward to us in front of a mirror, launching into a five-act tragedy about how we wore horizontal stripes on a bloated day.
Ever coached someone about the importance of financial prudence? “Save your money; don't buy those expensive shoes!” Yet, there we are, having a spiritual moment in the checkout line with our third pair of designer shoes this month because “they spoke to us.”
Or the health advice we doll out like free samples. “You should really eat healthier and cut down on the junk food,” we say while our own dinner is a questionable choice between a mystery taco and last week’s pizza leftovers.
Then there's the classic human paradox where we do things fully knowing they're terrible ideas. Like eating spicy food right before skydiving or having ice cream when you know you’re lactose intolerant. It’s as if the moment we label something as "probably not a good idea," it becomes a red button begging to be pushed. There's a bizarre thrill in the forbidden fruit scenario—even when the fruit in question is clearly labeled, "This will make you regret your life choices." So, when I'm about to send a risky text or make a dubious late-night purchase, there’s always that tiny voice saying, "This might not end well," which I expertly ignore in pursuit of a good story for later.
Ever find yourself texting a friend for advice about something you've already gone and done? It's like asking if you should get bangs after you've already chopped off half your hair. There I am, phone in hand, typing out, "So, do you think it's a bad idea if I text this?" Meanwhile, my sent messages gleefully display a timestamp just five minutes prior where I’ve done exactly that. It’s the conversational equivalent of ordering a salad after you've eaten a whole pizza—sure, it sounds good in theory, but who are we kidding? My friends must either think I'm in serious denial or practicing my fiction writing skills!
Ah, then let’s not forget the mantra of parenthood: "Do as I say, not as I do." It's a time-honored tradition passed down through generations, almost as if it came with the kid manual that none of us actually received. This rule applies perfectly when we think about the various contradictions between what we instruct our kids to do versus what we practice ourselves.
For example, there's the universal parental decree: “No snacking before dinner!” This, of course, is solemnly declared even as we stealthily munch on chips in the laundry room, praying the crunch isn’t loud enough to attract attention. And then there's the "clean your room" directive. We issue this order standing in the doorway of our children’s chaotic bedrooms, while our own bedroom looks like it's been hit by a mild tornado—clothes, drinks, and random papers strewn everywhere in a sort of organized chaos that only we can navigate.
Let's not forget the all-important “Don’t lie,” which we proclaim with a straight face shortly after telling our mini-inquisitors that the ice cream truck only plays music when it’s out of ice cream or the park is mysteriously “closed” today. And of course, there’s the timeless classic about homework: “Don’t procrastinate on your homework!” We say this even as we ignore that growing pile of bills, or the mounting unread emails in our inbox—tasks that we’ll definitely start tomorrow. Or maybe the day after.
So are we hypocrites? Or is it just that it’s easier to see the game when you're not the one playing? Maybe our advice is a sign of what we know is right, crafted from our own battles with the same demons. And when it comes to parental hypocrisy, we’re not just teaching our kids the do’s and don’ts of life; we’re also giving a master class in the fine art of human imperfection. It seems that while we're busy raising our kids, they're also getting a front-row seat to the comedy show that is adult life. And really, if they can learn to laugh at this alongside us, that’s probably not the worst lesson we could teach!
The morale of this story of “do as I say, not as I do”? Maybe we need to start listening to that inner advisor we channel so effortlessly for others. Maybe then, we could balance the scales between knowing what's right and actually doing it. And while we work on that, let’s keep the humor alive because, honestly, if we can’t laugh at our own contradictions, then we’re really missing the fun of being perfectly imperfect humans.
Ready to stop being the "Do as I say, not as I do" champion? Tune in for my next blog post where we'll swap our advisory hats for some action boots. I'll dish out some real-deal, actionable strategies to help you not only preach wisdom but actually live it too. Get ready to transform from the ultimate advice dispenser to a living, breathing example of your own sage counsel. And, yes, I'll try to take my own advice this time—promise! Check back soon if you're curious to see if I actually manage to follow through!
