Navigating the Overload of Online Advice (Without Losing Your Mind)

So, the other day I fell down a TikTok rabbit hole—again. I was just scrolling before bed (bad idea, I know), and suddenly I’d watched 17 back-to-back videos telling me how to fix my life. Apparently, I need to wake up at 5 AM, journal with a fountain pen, only eat food that “vibrates high,” and never, ever text first.

Honestly? I just wanted to watch a dog video.

And look, I love a good tip. I’ve picked up some solid habits from the internet—like using sunscreen religiously and the fact that baking soda really can fix anything. But lately? It feels like every swipe is another person shouting “This is the only way to be successful/happy/mentally stable!” And it’s… a lot.

Too much advice, not enough actual thinking

Here’s the thing: not all online advice is bad. Some of it is super helpful, even life-changing. But the sheer volume of it? That’s where the problem creeps in. It’s like being at a dinner party where everyone is talking at once, and they’re all really sure they’re right. Meanwhile, you’re sitting there with a half-eaten taco thinking, “Am I a complete mess or just tired?”

And because platforms like Instagram and TikTok are designed to grab your attention, the advice tends to be quick, punchy, and a little extreme. Which makes sense—it has to stand out. But nuance gets lost. Like, yeah, cutting out sugar might work for one person’s anxiety, but someone else might just need more sleep and less caffeine. Or a hug.

Wait, who even are these people?

One thing I started doing that really helped: checking who’s actually giving the advice. Is it a licensed therapist? A nutritionist? Or is it just someone who went viral for saying something spicy while wearing really good eyeliner?

Because real talk—going viral doesn’t make someone wise. Or even right.

But we want it to be right, don’t we? There’s something comforting about being told “Do this one thing and your life will change.” Especially when you’re in that mid-20s fog of “What am I doing?” I’ve been there. Heck, I am there. And when you’re tired, anxious, or feeling stuck, even the weirdest advice can sound like gospel.

So how do we not go completely bonkers?

Okay, here’s my take on this. It’s not about swearing off the internet and moving to a cabin in the woods (unless you’re into that—power to you). It’s about balance. About giving yourself a second to go, “Does this actually make sense for me?”

Ask yourself: Does this advice make me feel empowered or like I’m failing at being a human? If it’s the second one, maybe it’s not your thing. And that’s okay.

I’ve started treating online advice like a buffet. Some stuff? Heck yes, I’m piling it on my plate. Other stuff? Hard pass. And sometimes I try something and decide, “Nope, not for me,” and move on. No guilt. No shame. Just vibes.

You’ve got more wisdom than you think

Also—can we talk about how we don’t give ourselves enough credit? Like, you’re probably smarter, more intuitive, and more capable than you think. But the internet (bless its chaotic heart) can make you feel like you need a guru to tell you how to breathe. Literally. Breathing tutorials. I’ve seen them.

Trusting yourself takes practice. It’s kind of like a muscle. And every time you pause, reflect, and choose what you believe instead of blindly following some influencer’s morning routine? That muscle gets stronger.

Let’s be real for a second…

We’re all figuring it out as we go. And yeah, the internet can be overwhelming. But it can also be this cool, weird, wonderful place full of ideas and connection and dance trends you’re absolutely too uncoordinated to try (just me? cool).

So next time you feel flooded with tips on how to live your “best life,” just take a beat. Breathe (with or without a tutorial). And remember: the best advice isn’t the loudest voice on your feed—it’s the quiet little one in your head that already knows what you need.

Okay, your turn—what’s the weirdest online advice you’ve ever followed? Or ignored? I’m dying to know. Let’s compare bad decisions.