"Try Smiling More" and Other Useless Advice
A cynical review of self-help books, written by someone who’s actually been broken open, and didn’t find the answers in a morning routine.
Let’s get something straight: Most self-help books are neither helpful nor particularly self-aware.
They parade around in bright covers, with punchy titles like "Think Happy!", "Atomic Habits!", or my personal favorite, "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F**"*, as if tossing a swear word into a font-heavy cover suddenly makes philosophy edgy.
Inside? You’ll find metaphors stretched so thin they could double as cling film, recycled platitudes dressed up as “breakthroughs,” and advice so shallow it might drown in a teacup.
I’ve grieved. I’ve sat in the ruins of everything I thought I was supposed to be. I’ve felt the kind of silence where not even your own thoughts want to keep you company. And if you’ve been there too, you’ll know that reading someone say “wake up earlier and journal!” doesn’t exactly untangle the existential knot in your chest.
Half these books read like they were written by a finance bro who just discovered meditation. The other half are therapists with savior complexes who confuse “healing” with “branding.” Most don’t trust you to think. They just throw diagrams and acronyms and pep talks at you, hoping you’ll clap like a seal because they told you your feelings are valid before selling you a printable worksheet.
Sure, maybe this stuff does help some people. Especially those who’ve never paused long enough to sit with their own thoughts, or never had the luxury (or misfortune) of being cracked open early in life. Maybe I just happened to feel everything too deeply, too soon. Maybe I’ve already spent years wrestling with the questions these books are only beginning to ask.
Don’t get me wrong… reflection, growth, change. They matter. But when someone writes “everything happens for a reason” in 12 different ways across 200 pages, and then charges $24.99 for it, that’s not help. That’s marketing.
What these books rarely say is this: healing is boring. It’s repetitive. It’s lonely. It’s not a glow-up montage. It's nights where you just survive. It’s learning to make peace with the fact that some things don’t happen for a reason. Some things just happen. And you carry them anyway.
If you want help, talk to someone who listens more than they speak. Read poetry. Read philosophy. Read stories of people who didn’t make it out clean, but made it out alive. The human condition doesn’t fit in bullet points or productivity charts.
Most self-help books are afraid of grief. Afraid of uncertainty. Afraid of admitting that life sometimes just hurts, and there’s no hack for it.
They say “fix yourself.”
I say. I did.
Not with vision boards or bubble baths.
But with time. With silence. With the kind of pain that doesn’t post well.
I clawed my way through. Not into some higher version of myself, just into someone who sees clearer now. Who sits with the mess and doesn’t flinch.
Maybe you do have to break. Maybe that’s the point.
But if you’re going to rebuild, do it on your own terms.. not with some Instagrammable blueprint.
That’s not self-help. That’s just survival. The honest kind.
For the longest time- when nothing made sense this is the first form of article that actually made me feel seen / heard. Its basically re validated that i am not the problem, maybe its just how they market grief these days that it feels like a bad omen to say ‘ oh you slept through all day’ don’t be daft - there’s life out there. Don’t get me wrong i do agree movement gives you a type of energy that wants you to be better, but sometimes that movement also drowns you and to dig out of that my friend, i wish not my worst enemy has to go through.
What always drove me mad was the whole “change your mindset” regurgitation. And I’m not saying it isn’t true. I’m saying that changing your mindset doesn’t come quickly. Or easily. It’s not as simple or easy as these self help writers make it seem. It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do. And for some it requires real tactics of healing - not just manis, pedis and facials.