As soon as you become a parent, everyone gives you their

Hear the words of Essie Davis, who speaks with both wonder and weariness: “As soon as you become a parent, everyone gives you their parenting advice. It’s like an onslaught of information about how other people do it.” In this saying lies the truth of an age-old phenomenon: that in the sacred work of parenting, all believe themselves wise, and all are eager to press their wisdom upon those newly walking the path. What begins as guidance may quickly become burden, not because counsel is evil, but because the flood of voices can drown the quiet wisdom that comes from living and learning with one’s own child.

From the dawn of civilization, parents have turned to elders, midwives, sages, and neighbors for guidance in raising their children. This was natural and necessary, for survival often depended on the shared knowledge of the community. Yet even in those ancient days, the counsel offered was not always gentle, nor always true. One parent was told to discipline with harshness, another to nurture with indulgence. The contradiction of voices revealed the deeper truth: there is no single way to parent, for every child is a mystery, and every family a world unto itself.

When Essie Davis speaks of the “onslaught of information,” she names not only the abundance of advice, but the weight of modernity itself. In our time, advice pours not merely from family and friends, but from books, television, the vast expanse of the internet. What was once a few voices has become a thousand, each insisting it holds the true path. And so new parents, already trembling beneath the burden of love and responsibility, find themselves overwhelmed, their confidence shaken, their instincts clouded by the din.

History itself offers an example. Consider the young Queen Victoria, who, upon becoming a mother, was deluged with advice from courtiers, physicians, relatives, and politicians. Each voice carried authority, each insisted on its own truth. The queen, though powerful in rule, confessed often to confusion and despair in the raising of her children. She discovered that advice, though abundant, could not relieve her of the sacred labor that only she and her husband could shoulder. Like Davis, she learned that too much counsel can become chaos.

And yet, let us not despise advice entirely. For guidance, when given with humility and received with discernment, can be a lantern in darkness. The danger lies not in hearing others, but in losing one’s own voice among theirs. Every parent must learn the art of discernment: to listen, to weigh, to accept what resonates with truth, and to set aside what does not. For the child given to you is not the child of another, and the wisdom that nurtures them must be shaped in the fire of your own experience.

The lesson, then, is clear: do not let the multitude of voices silence your own heart. Accept advice as a traveler accepts water from many streams, but drink only from those that sustain you. Do not measure your worth by how well you follow the paths of others, but by how faithfully you walk with your own child. Advice can be a gift, but love is the true compass, and no voice—however wise—can replace the bond between parent and child.

Therefore, let every parent who hears these words take action: listen with humility, but live with courage. Thank those who offer counsel, but trust your own steps. Do not be paralyzed by the noise of comparison, nor swayed by the pride of others. Remember that every family is its own kingdom, every child a universe, and every parent a learner on the sacred path.

Thus Essie Davis’ words, though spoken lightly, bear heavy wisdom. Parenting advice will always come, like an endless tide, but it is the parent who must choose which waves to ride and which to let pass. In this discernment lies peace, and in this peace lies the freedom to raise children not according to the world’s confusion, but according to love’s eternal truth.