BYOF
- Rochelle Cherniawski
- Feb 24
- 4 min read
Advice I Give But Ignore For Myself
I love it when people come to me for advice.
It brings me joy to know that someone can trust me to offer simple ideas or confide in me when they need deeper guidance.
Some of the advice I give is thoughtful, some is encouraging, and sometimes it’s even life-changing. You know, the kind of advice that makes people pause, nod slowly, and say, “Wow… I really needed to hear that.”
Do I follow this advice myself?
Absolutely not.
That’s the paradox. Somehow, I’ve become comfortable offering guidance while actively ignoring the very wisdom I hand out like free samples at Costco.
So today, in the spirit of honesty (and self-roasting), I’m deciding to try the BYOF - Be Your Own Friend - method and take a trip down self-help alley for a tour of advice I confidently give, deeply believe in, and consistently fail to apply to my own life.
Me to a friend:
“You’re doing your best. Give yourself some grace. You’re human.”
Me to myself at 2:47 am:
“Remember that mildly awkward thing you did in 2014? Let’s replay it in HD.”
I will preach self-compassion like it’s a TED Talk. I’ll remind you that growth isn’t linear, perfection is a myth, and you deserve kindness—especially from yourself.
Then I’ll turn around and mentally berate myself for not replying to an email fast enough, not being productive enough, or not having my entire life figured out on schedule.
Rules for thee, but not for me.
Me to a friend:
“Putting your phone down and reading before you go to bed is such a great way to shift your mind from chaos mode to sleep mode.”
Me in bed at 11:52 pm:
“Honey, OMG, you have to see this! Look at all of these dogs that are terrified of cats!”
This is elite-tier advice. Foundational. Scientifically backed. Undeniable.
And yet, I will tell other people to adjust their bedtime to set themselves up for a good night’s rest while I actively choose to:
Scroll “for five more minutes”
Start a new show at midnight
Overthink my entire existence
Decide that I won’t be able to sleep unless I grab a quick snack
Sleep is important. I know this. I believe this. I ignore this nightly.
Me to a friend:
“Do you ever take a break? How do you keep it all together? Can you block off some personal time in your calendar during the day?”
Me running a Zoom call from the school pick-up line:
“That’s great feedback, Dianne. I’ll add that to my list of action items.”
I love telling people this. Love it.
“You’re not a machine.”
“Your worth isn’t tied to your output.”
This stuff is beautiful, inspirational, maybe even screenshot-worthy.
Meanwhile, if I have a free afternoon, I can be found:
Checking if our passports need to be updated
Following up on the status of a security deposit
Reviewing my list of upcoming birthdays and sending cards
Scheduling my next oil change
Taking breaks is allowed. Guilt is optional.
Me to a friend:
“Why did you agree to that? It’s OK to say ‘no.’”
Me to the next person to ask me for something:
“Yep. You got it.”
Ah yes. Boundaries. The thing I recommend constantly and practice selectively.
I will encourage others to say no, protect their energy, and stop over-explaining themselves.
And then I will:
Agree to things I don’t want to do
Reply “no worries at all!!” when there are, in fact, worries
Overcommit and then wonder why I’m exhausted
I’m great at identifying when other people need boundaries. Personal boundaries? Still buffering.
Me to a friend:
“I think you already know what to do. The answer is right in front of you.”
Me figuring out where to go for dinner:
“There are so many factors to consider. There are layers of complexity related to this choice. What if I screw this up?”
This advice is short. Simple. Useless to me personally.
I will say with confidence to anyone spiraling: “Don’t overthink it. It’s not that deep.”
And then I will proceed to:
Draft imaginary conversations
Analyze tone, punctuation, and timing
Revisit decisions I made with zero new information
Invent problems that do not exist
My brain does not “stop overthinking.” It changes lanes and speeds up.
Me to a friend:
“Don’t compare your chapter two to someone else’s chapter 12. We are all running our own race.”
Me watching a perfectly put-together mom load her Bentley with organic groceries:
“Her hair is perfect. That car is so fancy. Her outfit is adorable. I’m sure she only gets healthy stuff. I need to get my shit together.”
This one hits hard because it’s true.
I tell people to stop comparing their behind-the-scenes to someone else’s highlight reel. To focus on their own path. To remember that everyone is on a different timeline.
Then I open social media and immediately wonder:
Why someone younger is doing better
Why someone else figured it out faster
Why my progress doesn’t look like theirs
Comparison is the thief of joy, and I keep leaving the door unlocked.
Me to a friend:
“You can’t stop now! You’ve come so far. A tree doesn’t grow in one day.”
Me on the scale:
“Whyyyyyyyyyyy? I’ve worked out for three days and NOTHING is changing. These jeans feel even tighter today. This isn’t working.”
I say this when people feel stuck or impatient. When progress feels slow. When results aren’t obvious yet.
“Just trust the process.”
But the moment I don’t see immediate results, I’m like:
“Is the process broken? Did I miss a step? Should I abandon everything?”
Trusting the process is easy when it’s someone else’s timeline.
Why I Still Give This Advice Anyway
Here’s the thing: I don’t give this advice because I’ve mastered it. I give it because I need it.
Sometimes advice is just wisdom we’re still practicing out loud. Sometimes it’s a reminder, not a résumé. Sometimes, saying it to someone else helps it land a little closer to home.
And sometimes, you just need to be your own friend.
So if you’re out here giving great advice you don’t always follow—welcome. You’re in good company.
We’re learning. We’re trying. We’re hypocritical, but self-aware.
Let’s toast to progress.
Cheers!
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