My first answer would be a rather general claim: If you are studying anything and it doesn't affect your life, you're doing it wrong.
Philosophers are known for asking questions that do not have easy answers. In fact, I have seen many suggest that it is not the answers in Philosophy that matter, but the questions themselves.
We make assumptions every day, often mortal ones. When I confidently stare down a one ton fire breathing monster barreling down on my laughably protected shell of a body (also known as "riding my motorcycle in traffic"), I make assumption after assumption about what can and cannot happen to me.
In the case of many accidents, those assumptions prove wrong.
Philosophy provides approaches for identifying those assumptions, and seeking to set them on a more firm foundation. When I have a near miss due to some {bleep}-hole that nearly puts me on the pavement, I have an opportunity to explore my own life's choices, and decide how I might better take control of my fate (such as, perhaps, joining them by driving a car instead of a motorcycle. Or perhaps easing off on the throttle a little because I don't really have to be in that much of a rush). I can also see more into the decisions others make. When I see that unforgivable lout at the front of the left turn lane, ready to illegally cut across in front of me as the light turns green (seriously? What is up with some drivers?), I can see the way they're clawing at the wheel and start to make educated guesses as to their utility function, even though I've never met them, because I know utility functions are useful for questioning how everyone acts.
Are there other ways to come to these conclusions? Certainly. But all such paths provide more questions to be answered. They're just deeper questions, trickier questions. Questions philosophy happens to enjoy exploring. Eventually, they all either lead to philosophy, or an axiomatic assumption of truth which, if ever proven wrong, can wreak untold havoc on one's life.