Often, we don't suspend our own baggage long enough to make space for another to express their own. It can be even worse with those closest to us. We're quick to judge and draw comparisons based on our own experiences, doling out unsolicited advice. We bring too much of our personal history with us, as if it's going to help provide a more informed perspective, but it robs the one confiding in us of the clean slate that they deserve. It undermines the newness, one-of-a-kind-ness of their experience. It assumes they want our garbage thrown on their heap. We're left with unhelpful advice and a festering lack of trust we never dare admit.
The belief that we ever know what's best for another person is broken logic. A justification to insert our own past histories into another's unique path. It leaves us feeling like bad friends. Disloyal partners. Shitty human beings.
Why is it so easy to express our judgement of others and call it "being supportive?"
Claim only our own experience.
Notice when we're gunning to insert our perspective. Step back.
Give our loved ones space to be themselves, with all the messes and the problems and the disfunction.
When we inevitably judge, keep it to ourselves and diffuse that shit on our own time.
Don't hold any of it against them, and don't hold any of it against ourselves.