Gut instinct: A direction to follow or a feeling to question?
Photo by Brooke Cagle on Unsplash
Have you ever had a feeling about something before you could explain why?
Nothing obvious has happened. Nobody has said anything particularly concerning. On the surface, everything seems perfectly fine. And yet, somewhere inside, something is saying: “This doesn't feel right”.
And then there are those other moments when something feels right almost immediately. An opportunity comes along, a new person enters your life, or a situation unfolds, and before you have carefully weighed up every possibility, something inside you says: “Yes. This feels right”.
We often call it our gut feeling.
Most of us have experienced it. That quiet knowing. That little nudge. Sometimes it is a whisper; sometimes it is much harder to ignore. But should we trust it? That is the question I was invited to explore in this piece.
Perhaps our gut knows more than we realise
There are moments when we seem to know something before we can explain how we know it. A change in someone's tone. A hesitation. A look. A shift in the atmosphere. Something that doesn't quite fit with what we are hearing. We may not consciously register each of these things, but somehow, they come together and leave us with a feeling.
Perhaps this is because we carry far more of our past experiences with us than we realise.
Every relationship we have lived through, every difficult conversation, every disappointment, every experience of trust, every mistake, every person we have learned to read, every situation we have navigated – all of these experiences leave something with us. Over time, they shape the way we recognise and respond to what is happening around us.
Sometimes that accumulated experience speaks before we have found the words.
I've experienced this many times in my work with students and people I've supported over the years. Someone might tell me, “Everything is fine. I'm coping.” And yet something doesn't quite sit right. Perhaps it is their tone, their energy, a hesitation, or simply a sense that what they are saying doesn't quite match what I am seeing.
“Sometimes the problem isn't that we don't know. Perhaps we simply don't feel ready to trust what we know.”
I may not know what is wrong. But I know I want to stay with the conversation a little longer.
Sometimes, if we create enough space, something emerges. The person may finally acknowledge that they are struggling, that they are overwhelmed, or that there is something they haven't yet been able to put into words.
The feeling didn't give me the answer. It simply told me to pay attention.
Perhaps there is a scientific explanation for some of this quiet knowing. Our brains are constantly processing information, much of it outside our conscious awareness. Experiences, memories and observations help us recognise patterns, while our bodies are also responding to what is happening around us.
A tone of voice, a change in behaviour or something that doesn't quite fit can register before we are consciously able to explain what we have noticed. What we experience as a “gut feeling” may therefore be our brain rapidly bringing together information that we have not yet put into words.
Sometimes the reason isn't really the reason
I've recognised this in myself too. There have been times when I've felt so tired, stretched and emotionally drained that my immediate thought has been, “I think I need to give this up”. And, on the surface, the reasons were perfectly sensible. There was too much to do. Too many demands on my time and energy. I was tired, and I needed to make things easier.
But sometimes, when we pause, we discover that the decision isn't quite as straightforward as it first appears. Perhaps underneath the exhaustion there is frustration, disappointment, a loss of confidence, or simply the feeling that we cannot keep carrying everything in the same way.
“Perhaps the gut feeling is simply an invitation to look again. And sometimes we know more than we think we do.”
It made me realise how easily we can mistake the reason we can see most clearly, for the whole reason. Sometimes we need to look a little deeper and ask ourselves: “What is really going on here? What am I actually feeling? And what is this feeling trying to tell me?”
Perhaps the gut feeling is simply an invitation to look again.
And sometimes we know more than we think we do
I've also sat with people who tell me: “I honestly don't know what I want.”
Yet as they talk, I sometimes get the sense that they do know – at least more than they realise. They know what they don't want. They know what makes them unhappy. They know what they would choose if they weren't worried about disappointing someone, making the wrong decision, or stepping outside what others expect of them.
Sometimes the problem isn't that we don't know. Perhaps we simply don't feel ready to trust what we know.
I have watched this happen in conversations where, slowly, a person begins to hear themselves differently. A thought they had dismissed comes back. A possibility they had been afraid to consider becomes more real. They may suddenly say something like: “Actually, I think I already knew that.”
And perhaps they did. Perhaps the knowing was there all along, waiting for enough quiet to be heard.
But our gut isn't always right
This is where we need to be careful. We are often told to trust our instincts: Trust your gut. Follow your intuition. You already know. Sometimes we do. But sometimes what feels like intuition may actually be fear, insecurity, or an old experience speaking through us.
“Sometimes what feels like intuition may actually be fear, insecurity, or an old experience speaking through us.”
Our past can shape the way we interpret the present. If we have been hurt before, we may be quicker to anticipate hurt again. If we have experienced rejection, we may notice signs of rejection where there are none. If something feels unfamiliar, we may interpret that discomfort as a warning when it may simply be telling us that we are stepping outside what we know.
The feeling itself is real. But that doesn't necessarily mean our interpretation of the feeling is right. This is why I think we need to be curious about our gut feelings rather than simply obeying them. What is my gut actually telling me?
And sometimes the gut says yes
We tend to talk about gut feelings when something feels wrong. But our gut can speak positively too.
I've had situations where I've met someone, encountered an opportunity or stepped into something new and had an immediate sense that it felt right. There wasn't necessarily one obvious reason. It was more a feeling of ease. Of alignment. Of - yes, this feels right.
“Perhaps the gut doesn't only warn us. Perhaps it also recognises. It can recognise safety, possibility, connection and something that feels right for us.”
Looking back, I can often see that there were many small things contributing to that feeling – things I had noticed without consciously putting them together. The person's manner. Their values. The way they spoke about others. The consistency between what they said and how they behaved.
Perhaps the gut doesn't only warn us. Perhaps it also recognises. It can recognise safety, possibility, connection and something that feels right for us. But even then, the feeling is a place to begin, not a reason to stop thinking.
This is where emotion and reason meet
For me, this is where emotional intelligence becomes particularly important.
We sometimes speak about emotion and reason as though they are opposites. As though we must choose between listening to our heart and listening to our head. I don't think we do.
Emotional intelligence is about bringing emotion and reason into the same conversation.
Our emotions give us information. Our experiences give us context. Our intuition may alert us to something we have not yet consciously understood. But then we need to think.
“Our emotions give us information. Our experiences give us context. Our intuition may alert us to something we have not yet consciously understood. But then we need to think.”
What evidence do we have? Could there be another explanation? Are we making an assumption? Is our response about what is happening now, or is something from our past influencing how we are seeing the situation?
We can listen to our gut without handing it the steering wheel.
Self-awareness helps us pause long enough to ask where that feeling is coming from. And sometimes, that question changes everything.
Perhaps the wisdom is in the pause
I have come to appreciate the value of pausing before deciding.
Not every feeling needs an immediate response. Sometimes we need to sit with it. To notice it. To ask where it is coming from. To allow ourselves to feel it without immediately turning it into a conclusion.
And then to bring our rational mind into the conversation.
What do I know?
What do I feel?
What am I noticing?
What might I be missing?
Perhaps the answer becomes clearer. Perhaps the original feeling remains. Or perhaps, once we have looked more closely, we realise that what we thought was intuition was actually fear.
Either way, we have learned something about ourselves. Perhaps that is one of the gifts of paying attention to our gut. It doesn't always give us the answer. Sometimes it gives us a question.
So, can we trust our gut?
I think we can listen to it. But listening is different from blindly obeying.
Our gut may carry the wisdom of experiences we have accumulated over many years. It may recognise patterns and subtle cues before our conscious mind has worked out what we are noticing. It may alert us to something important. It may even tell us that something feels right before we can explain why.
But it can also be influenced by our fears, our insecurities and the experiences we carry with us.
So perhaps the question isn't simply: “Can I trust my gut?”
Perhaps it is:
“Can I listen carefully enough to understand what my gut is telling me – and then decide wisely?”
Listen to the feeling. Respect the experience behind it. Become curious about what you are noticing. Bring your head into the conversation. And then decide. Because perhaps we don't need to choose between our gut and our head. Perhaps we simply need to learn how to let them speak to one another.
Listen to your gut. Check it with your head. Then decide.
About the author
Natalie is a senior lecturer, published author, social worker by profession, and an experienced supervisor, mentor, and emotional intelligence practitioner.
She is passionate about helping people cultivate greater self-awareness, presence, and emotional intelligence so they can live and lead with purpose, clarity, and authenticity.
You can follow Natalie Kenely on LinkedIn.
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