There are phrases that sound perfectly harmless on their own. But the moment they're spoken, the conversation instantly changes. One of them is "If I were you...".
Why is it so irritating?
Because in reality, no one is ever in another person's place.
You don't know what they're going through. You don't know how their work is organised. You don't know how much effort they've already put into what they have now. You don't know what they had to go through to get to this point.
Maybe everything came easily to them. Or maybe they spent three months without sleep or rest, denying themselves everything and literally tearing themselves apart to achieve this result.
And you don't know that. But they do. They remember every sleepless night, every failed attempt, every moment they wanted to give it all up.
That's why "If I were you..." is rarely perceived as support. More often it sounds like dismissal. Like a devaluation of someone else's experience. Like a message: "What you did doesn't matter much. I would have solved it more easily."
But you were never in their place.
The conversation quietly becomes about you, not them
This phrase has another effect that often goes unnoticed. It shifts the attention from the person who is struggling to the person who is speaking. The conversation was about your companion — their situation, their exhaustion, their choices. But the moment "if I were you..." is spoken, the spotlight moves to the speaker: their imaginary version of events, their hypothetical decisions, their image of themselves as wiser and more far-sighted.
The person who needed support suddenly becomes a backdrop for someone else's self-affirmation. And instead of being heard, they have to listen — to how someone else would have handled their life "brilliantly".
It kills more than trust — it kills desire
It's a whole separate story when words like these come from a partner. Intimacy rests on the feeling of being seen and accepted. The moment you hear a condescending "if I were you...", the sexual spark dies instantly. It's hard to desire someone who makes you feel more foolish, weaker, smaller. Devaluation is one of the fastest ways to kill attraction: the body reacts before you have time to think anything through.
After words like these, people don't want to keep talking
There is one more consequence. Phrases like this push people away — not just in the moment, but for the future. Someone who shared something important is met not with interest but with a ready-made verdict — and draws a simple conclusion: "I'm not being heard here." Next time, they simply won't share.
That's how one routine phrase gradually closes the door to trust: conversations get shorter, topics get safer, and closeness fades. What pushes people away is not the advice itself, but the feeling that their experience only serves as an occasion for the other person to show how smart and composed they would have been.
What to say instead
It's easy to give advice from the sidelines when you don't see the whole picture. When you don't know how much time, effort, nerves and attempts a person has invested in their decision.
If the person you're talking to truly matters to you, try to give up this phrase. Instead, you can ask: "What's the hardest part for you right now?", "How can I help?" — or simply say: "I don't know what it's like for you, but I'm here."
Sometimes a person doesn't need advice. They need their experience not to be devalued. And they need to leave the conversation wanting to talk to you again.
Now, honestly: if there are people like this around you — do you put up with it? Do you think it's basically normal? Or do things like this actually get to you? Tell us in the comments — we genuinely want to know.
A psychology minute from Polako Hedonist.
