“I have all this wisdom,” my dad actually moaned aloud. “I can see what people should do, but they just won’t ask me! It’s so frustrating!”
There you have it. I come from a long line of men who excel at screwing up their own lives while somehow “knowing” what everyone else should do with theirs. (Advice columnists remind of them. Just once, I’d like to see an advice columnist write, “How the hell should I know what you should do?”) I once dated a woman who continually tried to get me to make life decisions for her. I didn’t and don’t fault her. Just as I’d been raised to be a fount of wisdom, she had been raised to defer to men. Trouble is, I had long since realized that I am no expert in other people’s affairs, and that deciding what they should do is their job, not mine.* So, I would usually say something along the line of, “After you think it through, I’ll be eager to hear what you’ve decided. But don’t ask me to decide for you. I don’t know what you should do.” She once snapped back, “You’re the only man I ever met who doesn’t.” Exactly. —————————-- *You cannot imagine the needless burden the realization lifts. I recommend giving it a try.
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