Danny M. Lavery, aka Dear Prudence, is online weekly to chat live with readers. An edited transcript of the chat is below. (Sign up below to get Dear Prudence delivered to your inbox each week. Read Prudie’s Slate columns here. Send questions to Prudence at prudence@slate.com.)
Readers! Ask me your questions on the voicemail of the new Dear Prudence podcast. Just leave a message at 401-371-DEAR (3327), and you may hear your question answered on a future episode of the show.
Danny M. Lavery: Morning, everyone! Let’s solve some problems.
Q. Unwanted daughter: When I was young I was married briefly. I did not want children, and thought I’d made that clear to my husband. I accidentally got pregnant, and he was thrilled. Against my better judgment I had the baby, with the understanding that he would take care of it. I did not like motherhood and when the girl was 2 years old, I divorced her father and moved out of state. I paid court-ordered child support until she turned 18. I had thought that was the end of my interaction with her, but I recently got a letter from her saying she would like to meet. She suggested a visit to my current town.
From the tone of her letter it seems as if she simply wants medical information, which seems acceptable. I would not mind meeting her briefly to tell her things of that nature. Nobody in my current circle knows I have a child, and I would prefer it to remain that way to hold off gossip. When the young woman visits I intend to introduce her as a niece. I believe that would be an acceptable alternative to telling an unfortunate truth. I believe she would accept this. What do you think?
A: I don’t think that’s a good idea. You seem fairly clear-eyed about your limitations as a parent, and I think you should continue your general policy of cold honesty, rather than stooping to deception after a lifetime of ruthless clarity. Write her back and tell her that you have no interest in a relationship, but would be willing to provide her with medical information, if she’s interested. This would save you both from an uncomfortable visit and an unnecessary lie. While you’re not obligated to start feeling compassion for the woman you gave birth to, surely you can see that asking her to participate in a convoluted fiction (why call her your niece? Are you living in Peyton Place?) would force a strange sort of intimacy between the two of you. Partners in a lie are often forced to remain strangely united after the fact, and it’s clear the last thing you’re looking for is to strengthen ties with her.
Q. When is it too late to change your mind: All my life I dreamed of becoming a doctor. It was the only career I ever considered. I had to fight hard to make the dream become reality because my family does not value education. They didn’t support me in any way and actually told me that I would fail. I had to fight all through high school to get the right advanced classes. I got into a good college only because I ignored the counselor’s suggestions that I go to a community college because it would be “easier.” I did well in a pre-med program, did exceedingly well on the MCAT, and got accepted into a respected medical school
I am now two years into the program, and I’ve realized I don’t like it. It isn’t the work or the pressure. I just don’t want to be a doctor anymore. I’d quit if it weren’t for the fact that I know my family would mock me for the rest of my life. Is it a good idea to keep on a career trajectory just to prove people wrong (when they may have been right)?
A: I’m not sure whether or not you should abandon your career trajectory, because it’s not very clear, based on your letter, what you think is wrong with it. If you’re not overwhelmed by the work or the pressure, I don’t know why it’s taken you this long to realize you don’t like the medical profession after so many years of familiarizing yourself with it. That’s not to say that if you absolutely decide you can’t stand the thought of becoming a doctor, you shouldn’t allow yourself to change careers, just that such a sudden and vague dislike of your previously cherished career path makes me wonder if there’s not something else going on here. Your medical school should have a career counseling center, and I think you should make an appointment with a counselor and spend some time figuring it out what it is that you want. It’s possible you’re experiencing a crisis brought on by anxiety or the desire to self-sabotage, and you owe it to yourself to investigate the roots of your newfound antipathy before making a drastic decision.
If, however, after careful reflection and investigation, you find yourself as convinced as ever that the medical profession could never make you happy, go right ahead and quit. Your family wouldn’t have been right, by the way, because they told you that you would fail, and you’ve been enormously successful as a medical student by any metric. You’re not quitting because you failed the MCAT or didn’t get into a good school or couldn’t handle the workload, but because you don’t want to devote your life to a profession you don’t like. If your family would mock you for “the rest of your life” for something like that, consider spending less time with your family, and more time with people who want you to be happy.
Q. Prudie to Prudie, how do you keep it together?: I am not a meddler or a fan of giving or receiving unsolicited advice. Unless somebody has something in their teeth or is about to ruin a life, I’m content to mind my own business. I am however, sensitive and able to give thoughtful and empathetic advice. For that reason, I often have close friends, co-workers, and family members asking me to help with or to talk through an issue. Ninety-five percent of the time, I am delighted to do this. Every once in a while, though (right now, for example) these requests seem to come in from all sides, and if I’m not feeling particularly like my best self (run down from a busy period at work and some family troubles), I have difficulty mustering the energy and patience to listen and help problem-solve as well or as sensitively as I am normally capable of, and enjoy being. My question is, do you ever have emotional burnout from giving advice to people, and what do you do about it? If not, is there a nice way of saying, “I love you, but you’re on your own for this one”?
A: I don’t get emotionally burned out the way you do for the simple reason that being Dear Prudence is my job, and I get paid for it. I dispense advice about three days a week in a purely infotainment sense, always to strangers, and I have no idea whether they take my suggestions or not. I don’t have to watch them ignore my advice, or worse, watch them take it only to fail even more spectacularly as a result. It doesn’t stick with me—I don’t spend the rest of the week worrying about the letter writers or wondering what they’re doing. I offer them my best advice, wish them the best, and then move on. (Also—I can’t stress this difference enough—I get paid at the end of it.) It’s completely unlike the sort of relational work you’re doing, so it’s hardly fair to compare the two.
Your problem is entirely of your own making—if you’re feeling tired or otherwise not up to the task of counseling a friend in the middle of a sob story, you are absolutely within your rights to say, “That sounds really frustrating. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, and I hope things work out soon; I know you can handle it. I’ve got to go now, but let’s talk later.” People do this every day! It’s perfectly nice not to offer solutions to everyone in your life at every turn. You can offer a sympathetic ear without following it up with a free life plan. (Also, feel free to tell these friends and co-workers and family members you’re so close with about your own problems every once in a while.)
Q. Coat of many colors: About a year ago a former employee and now friend gave me a snazzy coat that she had loved dearly during the ’90s. She passed it over to me on the stipulation that, if I didn’t want it, she’d find a loving home for the coat. Well, I wore it a few times over the course of a year, but it never totally clicked with me. My sister was visiting recently, and it is WAY more her style. I gave it to her, as I felt she would get better use out of the coat. Clearly it is a material possession whose worth is purely existential, but I am feeling guilty over not honoring my colleague’s wishes. What is the right thing to do here? Do I have my sister bring the coat back? Do I hope it never comes up again? Do I tell my colleague that I am not wearing it as much as she’d perhaps like it to be, and offer to return it now? What is the right thing to do?!
A: The coat has a loving home, with your sister. My thoughts (understanding that this is a highly subjective situation) are this: You took the gift in the spirit with which it was intended, with every intention of keeping it. You wore it for a year but never felt wild about it until your sister came to visit, and you realized you were in the happy position of uniting this particular coat with its spiritual host. You have spread happiness and light; your friend has presumably seen you in the coat at least once and has raised no questions about why you’re not wearing it every single time you see her. And, since you presumably know where your sister lives, you can always borrow the coat back for an event you know your friend’s going to attend, if you’re that conscience-stricken about it. But I think you should sleep easy and in the knowledge that you’ve done the right thing.
Q. Obligated to tell co-workers?: I am starting a new job next week; my last day at my present job is Friday. I gave two weeks’ notice and hope to get everything wrapped up so I don’t leave anything hanging. My co-worker (we do similar jobs, it’s assumed she will cover my position until someone new is hired) is also leaving Friday, and she has sworn me to secrecy. She is afraid our boss will escort her out immediately, and if she works through July 1, she will have health insurance for another month. I can sympathize with her on that point. But I also feel terrible for our co-workers left behind, who will honestly not have anyone to do this work. I feel like I should warn them, but then, her news is not mine to share. For the record, management here is terrible, and I don’t mind them getting the shaft. What do you think? How do I face these people again after next week? I’d like to remain friends with them,and feel bad for the situation they’ll be in!
A: Their situation will be unpleasant, but plenty of offices have lost workers unexpectedly, and they’ll have the institutional support of your company behind them. You don’t have to confess that you knew about her plans in advance; if they gripe to you about it, tell them you’re sorry about all the extra work that’s recently fallen their way and hope you can take them out for a drink sometime soon to commiserate. If your soon-to-be ex-co-worker is counting out her health care eligibility in weeks, I think you should err on the side of keeping her secret and encourage her to find low-cost coverage through Obamacare after her employment health plan runs out.
Q. Fertile friends: I’m experiencing several years of infertility due to multiple miscarriages. I’m at an age where everyone in my social circle is getting pregnant (or it feels that way). While I’m happy for my friends, I have some people in my life I don’t enjoy spending time with in general and now that they are pregnant I can’t even be in the same room with them without turning into a ball of emotions and just feel sorry for myself. How do I create distance from these people especially the ones who don’t get the hint and constantly call to hang out no matter how many times I turn down their offers? I hate discussing my issues with anyone other than close friends.
A: Your goal should not be to create distance between yourself and every person who has ever gotten pregnant. Your goal should be dealing with your feelings of grief, loss, resentment, and envy in a way that allows you to continue to function as a person in the world, and I think that means you should start seeing a therapist. You may hate discussing your issues with anyone other than close friends, but if said issues mean you’re unable to be in the room with pregnant people, you’ve reached a crisis point. The world is full of people who have gotten, are getting, or will get pregnant someday, and you cannot organize your life around avoiding them.
Q. Multidrug resistant strain of feelings: Do you think it’s possible to be friends with someone you have feelings for? I haven’t spoken to my ex in a year and a half, after finding out he’d been cheating and lying to me for most of the time we were together—afraid that if he confessed he wanted me in his life but not as a romantic partner, I’d cut off contact with him completely. Obviously, I was devastated when I found out, on numerous levels, and then of course I did cut off contact, but nevertheless the best I’ve been able to do is put this out of my mind, not “get over him.” In some respects we really did have something together that neither of us had ever found with anyone else: terrific cheerleaders for each other’s potential, great comforters of each other in sadness, endlessly interested in getting the other’s perspective, intimately aware of each others’ virtues and vices (though I guess not all of them). He’s written a few times apologizing and asking to be friends, and the fact is I really miss him. But I also know I haven’t been able to disentangle my missing him from the relationship I believed we had—I mean, he talked to me about what our babies would look like. Do you see any way through this? I’m just so pained at the idea of permanently throwing away the connection we had. It’s not something that comes along every day for me, to say the least.
A: I think it’s possible to be friends with someone you have had feelings for (sometimes maybe). I don’t think it’s possible—perhaps the more accurate term is “desirable”—to be friends with someone who cheated on you for the entire duration of your romantic relationship. Not once or twice, but the whole time. I’m sure you do miss him, and I’m sure that he is sorry, but he has not demonstrated that he’s capable of treating you like a person worthy of respect and honesty, and that’s a necessary condition for friendship. Were you to let him back into your life, I have the sneaking suspicion it would be as a prelude to a romantic reconciliation (or noncommittal sexual entanglement, which would be fine under ordinary circumstances but terrible with this particular ex), and I have an even stronger suspicion that he would repeat the mistakes of the past. “I cheated on you because I was afraid if I tried to break up with you, you’d stop talking to me” is not a very good reason for cheating, I’m afraid. The only way through this is directly out of it. Do not write him back, do not let him into your life, do not rekindle a friendship with him. I understand that profound connections are rare, but I promise you that they are not the exclusive province of charismatic liars.
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