When you have new insights
Don't double down on old gut instinct
The Pink Angel
She appeared in a season when I was still confusing peace with depression. Her curves and colors carry the exact moment I realized nothing was “wrong” with me—only an old voice trying to keep me safe. She is the calm that follows recognition, the breath that says I remember who I am.
You’ll see more of that story in the letter just below.
Dear friend,
You know how they always told us to trust our gut?
And for the most part, we did.
That gut got us out of bad marriages, sketchy business deals, and those late-night phone calls we should’ve never answered. It was our built-in warning system—our way of staying safe, staying smart, staying alive.
But lately, I’ve noticed something no one ever warned us about. Sometimes that same gut starts sounding alarms that don’t belong to the present moment.
This morning, I woke up feeling… off. Not sad exactly, just heavy. Two days after being bumped by that car, my thigh was sore and my nerves were jumpy, like my whole system was still braced for impact.
And of course, I went straight into my old pattern—handle it, control it, fix it. I told myself I’d take the day off, meditate every hour, nap between. I’d be fine.
Except I wasn’t. My gut whispered, you’re depressed.
My ego argued, no I’m not.
And my soul—calm and patient as ever—just waited.
Waited for me to stop performing calmness and actually surrender.
Not the polished kind of surrender, but the real kind—the kind where I stop pretending I know what’s best and simply let myself feel what’s true.
That’s when I realized my gut was pulling from the past. It remembered old shutdowns, old fears, all those years I lived on edge. It didn’t yet know I’ve outgrown that woman. It mistook my choice to stay inside, nap, and meditate as me sliding into depression.
So I stopped. Checked in. It took a little time because my gut really wanted to protect me. That incessant chatter kept yelling danger! You’re slipping!
Uh, no. I wasn’t. I was choosing to trust the one thing that never fails me—my soul. The source of all healing, emotional and physical.
If a camera had been perched above me, you’d have seen me pacing my hallway, talking out loud—arguing with my gut. And that’s the giveaway. I never argue with intuition. Intuition is a quiet knowing; it doesn’t need my analysis.
The gut, on the other hand, that little bugger wants all the airtime. It warns, tell her she’s depressed, then watch her become depressed. Job done.
When I finally called that chatter out, something in me softened. The energy shifted. I remembered: the gut can lie and demand a fight; intuition simply waits to be heard.
So I did what I always do when I need to find my way home—
I went looking for joy.
Not the big, shiny kind. The small, faithful kind.
The way morning light spills across the curtain.
The smell of coffee.
The simple comfort of still being here.
It reminded me that the only way back to myself
is to let the old instincts rest and let my soul take the lead.
Here’s what I’m learning, and maybe it will help you too:
it’s not always intuition that’s panicking. Sometimes it’s our past.
Our gut was trained by the women we used to be—the ones who had to stay quiet, keep peace, earn love, survive.
So when you feel that familiar tightening in your belly, ask yourself—
is this my intuition, or my conditioning trying to protect me from growth?
Because the thing that feels “off” might just be new.
You’ve never been this free before.
You’ve never trusted yourself this much before.
Don’t double down on the old instincts.
Let the new insight whisper its truth—it’s safe now.
You’ve changed.
Your life has changed.
Your intuition deserves an upgrade.
So take a breath, my friend.
Listen again. And let your gut grow up with you.
With love,
M.
P.S. If this letter stirred something in you—if you’ve ever wondered whether it’s your intuition speaking or just an old echo from the past—my Building Trust with Yourself guide can help. It’s a gentle, practical way to begin tuning your inner ear again.
You can find it here: Building Trust with Yourself
And if you know a woman who could use that same kind of permission to trust her own knowing, you can gift her a subscription below.
