Learning to Trust Your Gut: Two Unexpected Lessons

We talk a lot about trusting our intuition, but what does that actually look like in real life? This week, I had two experiences that taught me our inner wisdom speaks in more languages than I realized.

The Protective Pause

I was scrolling Facebook when I saw a post from an old friend—someone I'd amicably cut ties with after we both agreed it was healthiest to keep things that way. Her post was about a product she "couldn't figure out how to get," something I used to help her find regularly.

Immediately, my helpful nature kicked into overdrive. I found myself googling the product (it wasn't that hard to find), and I knew she was far more tech-savvy than me. Logic said, "What would it hurt to just post the link and be helpful?"

But something inside me whispered, "Hold on. Don't act."

I sat with this uncomfortable tension. My head couldn't figure out how being helpful could be problematic. My gut just kept saying "wait."

Finally, I brought it up to one of my children, who knows very little about the situation. Within seconds, they said, "Mom, that's obviously a ploy to get you to respond. She knows how to find that stuff."

Aha moment. My intuition had been protecting me from re-engaging in a dynamic I'd consciously chosen to leave behind.

The Reality-Tested Dream

A few days later, I caught myself in a wonderful daydream about making a big move—new place, fresh start. The fantasy felt genuinely exciting, which surprised me. The feeling was so compelling that I felt prompted to write it all down, to explore it more concretely.

But here's what happened: As soon as I started putting this dream on paper, everything shifted. The excitement completely drained away. Nothing fit together. I realized I was essentially trying to trade one set of challenges for what appeared easier but was actually much more difficult than staying where I am.

The dream had felt amazing. The reality check felt awful. And I realized both experiences were my intuition working.

What These Experiences Taught Me

Intuition speaks multiple languages. Sometimes it's a warning bell. Other times it's a gentle "hold on." Sometimes it uses excitement to get our attention, then guides us through testing whether that excitement points toward wisdom or wishful thinking.

Helpful isn't always healthy. My deep need to be useful can override my inner wisdom about what's actually good for me. The pause my gut requested wasn't about being unkind—it was about honoring boundaries I'd set for good reasons.

Dreams can be compasses without being destinations. That moving fantasy probably wasn't about actually relocating. It was pointing me toward something I need more of in my current life—adventure, space, freedom, change. The specific scenario wasn't meant to become reality, but the feelings it stirred up contained important information.

Writing reveals truth. Getting concrete about our dreams—actually writing them down with specifics—can help us separate genuine direction from escapist fantasy. Both have value, but they require different responses.

Learning to Listen

I'm still processing these experiences, honestly. There's something fascinating about how our inner wisdom works—sometimes protecting us from what we can't yet see, sometimes exciting us about possibilities we need to explore, even if not in the way we first imagine.

The common thread seems to be learning to pause long enough to listen, whether the message is "wait" or "pay attention to this feeling."

Reflection Questions:

• When was the last time you felt that "hold on" feeling but couldn't logically explain why?
• Have you ever had an exciting idea that shifted dramatically when you got specific about it?
• What might your intuition be trying to tell you right now that you haven't fully listened to?

Sometimes we need support and outside perspective to sort through these inner conversations. That's not weakness—that's wisdom. Just like I needed my child's clarity about the Facebook situation, we often need trusted voices to help us see what we're too close to see ourselves.

Learning to trust your gut isn't about having perfect clarity all the time. It's about developing the willingness to pause, listen, and honor what you sense—even when it doesn't make logical sense yet.