The advice people need is rarely what they’re expecting to hear

I was the only patient left in the clinic. The receptionist and a nurse had nothing to do, so we had a great conversation for about 15 minutes. We talked about dogs and cats. We talked about families and relationships. We talked about what was important in life.

Finally, one of the young women asked me what I do for a living. I joked that I still haven’t decided what to do when I grow up, but I explained the different career paths I’ve taken over the years.

“I know exactly what you need to do,” said one of them.

“You need to become a therapist,” said the second. The first said that’s what she was thinking, too. Each seemed surprised that the other had come up with the same thing, especially since neither had met me before.

They made some flattering comments about why they thought I would make an effective therapist. I told them I had once considered it, but that I was far too lazy to go back to school for the training.

“I don’t know why I know this, but I just know you’re really trustworthy,” one of them said. “You just told me something about myself that I had never realized until you said it. That’s worth something to a lot of people.”

I appreciated their comments and I walked out of the office with a smile on my face. As I drove away, I couldn’t help but think about how often I’ve had similar conversations. Why does this keep coming up?

Various people have told me over the years that I should be a psychologist. Two former girlfriends — who don’t know each other — both pushed me strongly to consider becoming a “life coach.” One of them made a sample sign to put on my door to my office announcing myself as a life coach. The other felt so strongly about it that she even said she would pay for me to go through the certification process.

All my life, it’s been natural to listen to people — even strangers — and help them clarify the issues in their lives. I listen to what they have to say. I ask questions to clarify what I’m hearing. Then I ask them questions to lead toward the insight that seems to make sense to me.

It just seems like the empathetic and humane thing to do. I can’t always help people. Some don’t even want help. But almost everybody wants someone to listen and to understand.

One of the biggest surprises I had when I started this website is that I started getting emails from people who were desperate for advice. That was especially true when I started writing much more open and vulnerable articles about mistakes I had made in my own life.

It seems as though a lot of people find those old articles — sometimes going back 10 or 15 years — and recognize themselves in the things I confess about myself. So they write long emails to tell me about what’s going on in their lives and ask me for advice.

I can’t answer everybody — and some of the missives are so insane that they need more help than I can provide — but I’ve sometimes ended up corresponding with people about their darkest secrets and deepest fears.

I’ve noticed that the people who write to me tend to be very intelligent but disillusioned and quietly desperate. The impression I get is that they’ve been lying to themselves but don’t want to do that anymore. No matter what the situation is in their lives, they typically feel afraid to make the changes they know they need to make — but they’re ready for someone to tell them the truth.

My experience — with the people who write to me and to random strangers who I talk with — is that these people want someone to help them make sense of their lives. They want someone to help them find meaning in a life that often feels meaningless.

People often think they know what someone is going to tell them to do, often because well-meaning friends and family have been telling them those things. But I find that the simple answers they expect — choose option A or option B — are almost irrelevant to what they need.

They don’t need someone to tell them which partner to choose or which career to choose or where to move. They need help clarifying the values and meaning that can make those decisions meaningful. Those are the choices that can really change their lives — if they’re ready.

People expect to hear someone say, “Yes, you need a new job.” But they often need to hear, “You need a reason to exist that isn’t dependent on praise.”

They expect me to say, “You need to ditch this person who’s mistreating you.” But they often need to hear, “You need to become the kind of person who can love without using abusive relationships as emotional medication.”

They want me to say, “You need to move.” But they often need to hear, “You need to stop running.”

Here’s a more complete example of what I see over and over. People who are confused about relationships often write to ask me whether to leave a romantic partner. They tell me heartbreaking stories — often of betrayal and abuse — that make it clear they’re looking for someone to give them permission to leave. Or they want someone to give them certainty that the decision will work as they want it to work.

I can’t give anybody permission to do what’s right for him or her. I can’t predict how a particular decision is going to play out. Although I will make comments about those issues, I prefer to guide the person back to basics.

What is your identity in a relationship? What are your values about what matters in such a relationship? Do you have the courage and the integrity to do what you already know is right for you? How do you handle your fear about what could go wrong? Your fear of loss? Your fear of being alone? What does your life mean if you don’t have a partner to tell you what you’re worth?

Those are the sorts of questions that usually need to be answered before anybody can make a practical decision that matters. That’s because until those questions are answered, you’re going to end up making the same mistakes — with the same wrong partners — the next time.

People rarely want to hear such things, but focusing on those issues will allow a person to make more emotionally healthy choices. And if the person can become more emotionally healthy, it will be obvious what the better choice is when it’s time to make the practical choice.

I don’t really want to be a therapist. I don’t want to diagnose disorders out of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual and help people find therapy that works. I love good therapists — and have gotten great value from one in the past — but that’s not really me.

I also don’t really want to be a life coach. I guess I could do it, but it seems as though most people who want to hire such people are looking for someone to help them become more successful in their careers. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not that interesting to me.

I’m more interested in helping people find the insight they need — about themselves and about life — that can help them become the people they want to be. I’m interested in helping people find meaning in their lives — finding a core philosophy and values that can make their lives feel meaningful.

Most people don’t need practical advice. They need the courage to be honest with themselves about what they already know is true. They need someone to direct them to look at things in themselves that should have been settled years ago.

I don’t always tell people what they want to hear. But I’ve learned that the truth almost always sounds like something a person already knows — something he or she has been trying not to admit.

Maybe that’s what I am at my best — not a therapist or a coach, but a kind of “meaning adviser.” Someone who helps people stop lying to themselves and start living a life of truth and meaning instead.