I Don’t Want Your Unsolicited Advice

Especially when it’s just your way to cover your attempt at insulting or unfairly criticizing me.

I put off my move to Los Angeles for months after being blindsided by the coronavirus pandemic. I graduated from college with my video production degree in December 2019, and was already looking at apartments to move to in May 2020. I had a whole list of contacts in Hollywood and was feeling good about my chances. I have a really close friend down here doing gigs as a production assistant already and experienced workers had my number and resume in hand. When everything shut down in March, I was upset, but also realized my opportunity to get a bit more money in savings just in case I couldn’t land a gig right away. I said to myself, ‘alright, I’ll wait until July.’ It would give me time to save up, talk to a few more people and solidify some networking relationships.

Come July, things were still terrible. ‘Ok, maybe September.’ I continued updating folks on my status.

Still spiking. ‘November?’ I hoped. In October, things in Los Angeles weren’t trending down, but they were stable, and there were more shoots resuming. So I found a roommate, signed a lease, and packed up more prepared than I would have been in May.

Halfway into November, COVID cases and rates are the worst they had ever been. Oh great. I clearly had no chance of breaking into the industry anytime soon with my limited experience and extremely small filming crews. I started looking for retail work in the meantime.

I luckily landed a job at Marshalls pretty quickly to ease the rate I was burning through my savings. I found myself working more and more as a counter or cart cleaner at the front of the store. With all the restrictions on store capacity and enhanced cleaning protocols, those jobs ensured hours since they always needed to be done. One day, I was casually chatting with the other worker up front when she asked how I started working at the store. I said I had just moved from Washington and since Hollywood is low-key in shambles at the moment, I just needed a bit of income while I find a production who would take me on as a PA. I wasn’t worried. I had lots of contacts. Just have to wait until shooting opens up again.

‘Oh, Hollywood! Yeah, you can’t make it here if you’re not going to be friendly. You have to talk to people. That’s how it works down here, so you can’t be your quiet self if you want to go anywhere. You never know who you could meet here. Directors and producers and actors are always coming in and out. They could get you a job if you opened up more.’

Wait, what? Who said I wasn’t friendly? I greeted everyone politely, but since it was work, I didn’t actively try to start long conversations with people just wanting to get what they need and get out.

Apparently, she was referencing the fact that I’m not always bouncing off the walls, engaging in conversation with every person that walks in. To start, we technically aren’t supposed to be talking to anyone, each other included, so we don’t miscount the number of customers and go above legal capacity. But I didn’t understand what she was saying at all… or why. When would you organically get to a point in conversation with a customer where my career goals would ever pop up? I know I’m introverted, and I could definitely say more to people, but even that’s a stretch considering most people want nothing less than to have a full conversation with an employee while shopping.

She continued to repeat the same sentiment anytime we were working together.

‘You will never make it in the industry if you don’t talk to anyone. Not here in LA.’

‘You’re not friendly enough. No one will like you enough to hire you.’

‘You can’t be yourself if you expect anyone to like you enough to hire you.’

Sure. Some of that is valid. Friendliness and conversation does get you places in an industry almost entirely based on networking. But I can guarantee you I’m not going to get my big break as a Marshalls greeter. And, last I checked, I never even hinted at needing advice or being unsure of what to do next. As I recall, I have a great network set up and am just waiting for people to start taking the virus seriously so sets can reopen.

This is not the first time — as a feminine presenting person — that I’ve received completely unsolicited advice. And it’s not the first time that advice has been laced with jabs at my character and personality. If I even mention something slightly negative, people go running to fix it and tell me why I’m in this situation. I’m too weird. I’m too talkative. I’m not talkative enough. I’m a bitch. I’m a pushover. But the one thing each piece of advice has in common is that the person giving me the advice is never close to me and never knows my circumstances enough to give constructive advice. Also, every piece of “advice” is just a way to tell me what they, personally, don’t like about me.

So, I’m here to set the record straight. People, especially women and feminine people, do. not. want. your. advice. If we did, we would ask for it. Sometimes we just want to complain. Sometimes, we know exactly what we are doing (shocking, I know) and we are just waiting for situations out of our control to change. The only person your advice helps is the ego troll in your brain making you feel superior for “helping” a damsel in distress. I actually have two degrees, graduated Magna Cum Laude, and was the top student in both of my graduating classes. I think I can manage getting an entry-level assistant job, thanks.

The only reason I don’t have a better shot at a gig right now is because of COVID-19, and there is nothing I can do to change the fact that Los Angeles is facing its worst spike yet. Having more conversations and transforming into an extrovert certainly won’t reduce cases and save lives. So keep your opinions and self-serving advice to yourself because I guarantee, we don’t want to hear it.