You can tell me whatever you want.
I’m still going to watch your face.
I’m going to notice your eyes.
I’m going to pay attention to your body language.
I’m going to peep your tone.
I’m going to notice the words you choose—and the words you very conveniently leave out.
I’m going to hear what you said…
and sometimes, even more importantly, what you didn’t say.
And yes, I notice silence too.
Because communication isn’t just about the words that come out of your mouth. It’s everything happening around those words.
That little pause before you answer.
The sudden change in your tone.
The smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
The defensive reaction to a perfectly reasonable question.
The way your story somehow changes depending on who is listening.
The “I’m fine” that sounds absolutely nothing like fine.
And sometimes it’s not even one particular thing.
It’s just…
something feels off.
And that’s where intuition comes in.
I’ve learned not to ignore that feeling just because I can’t immediately explain it.
Because intuition isn’t always some mystical, crystal-ball, woo-woo experience.
Sometimes intuition is simply your brain noticing patterns before your conscious mind has finished putting all the pieces together.
You’ve seen this behavior before.
You’ve heard that tone before.
You recognize that look.
You remember how this story usually ends.
Your brain is quietly putting together the puzzle while you're standing there thinking, “Hmmmm… something ain't mathing.”
š
And let me tell you…
I have learned to listen to that little voice.
Not because my intuition is always right.
It isn’t.
I can misunderstand things. I can make assumptions. I can have a bad day. I can misread someone's mood.
That’s why intuition shouldn't be used as an excuse to accuse people, jump to conclusions, or create an entire Netflix documentary in your head based on one weird facial expression.
Sometimes a person is quiet because they're tired.
Sometimes they're distracted.
Sometimes they're dealing with something that has absolutely nothing to do with you.
So I don't believe in automatically treating every gut feeling as fact.
But I do believe in paying attention to it.
There’s a difference.
I don't need to prove something feels wrong before I acknowledge that it feels wrong.
That has been a big lesson for me.
You don't always need a courtroom full of evidence before you’re allowed to take a step back.
You don't need screenshots, witness statements, timestamps, three affidavits and a PowerPoint presentation titled “Exhibit A: Why Something Ain’t Right.”
Sometimes you simply notice that someone's words and behavior aren't matching.
And that matters.
Because consistency speaks loudly.
If someone says they care but consistently treats you like an inconvenience, pay attention.
If someone says they're happy for you but their behavior changes every time something good happens in your life, pay attention.
If someone says, “You can trust me,” but everything about their behavior keeps making you question whether you can…
pay attention.
Not necessarily to accuse.
Not necessarily to attack.
Just…
pay attention.
Your intuition deserves a seat at the table.
Especially when you've spent years talking yourself out of what you noticed.
Maybe you told yourself:
“I'm probably overthinking.”
“Maybe I'm being too sensitive.”
“I'm probably imagining things.”
“They didn't mean it like that.”
“I don't want to make a big deal out of it.”
And sometimes those things are true.
But sometimes?
You knew.
You just didn't want to know.
There's a difference.
Sometimes we don't ignore our intuition because we're incapable of seeing what's happening.
We ignore it because accepting what we're seeing might require us to make a decision we aren't ready to make.
And THAT is uncomfortable.
Because once you see something clearly, you can't always unsee it.
So yes, I watch.
I listen.
I notice.
I observe.
I pay attention to the energy of a conversation, the consistency of someone's behavior, the things that aren't being said and the things that suddenly don't add up.
But I also try to give people grace.
Because we're human.
We have bad days.
We get nervous.
We stumble over our words.
We communicate badly sometimes.
One awkward moment doesn't tell me who you are.
Patterns do.
And that's probably the biggest lesson I've learned:
Don't make a life-changing decision based on one moment.
But don't keep dismissing a pattern just because you don't like what it's telling you.
Your intuition isn't necessarily telling you “This person is bad.”
Sometimes it's simply telling you:
“Pay attention.”
And honestly?
That's enough.
You don't have to immediately confront.
You don't have to announce your suspicions.
You don't have to gather the village.
You don't even have to explain yourself.
You can simply observe.
Listen.
Take your time.
Let people's actions continue to tell the story.
Because eventually, the truth usually has a way of becoming much less subtle.
And when your gut has been whispering something for a while, maybe you don't need to keep screaming over it with excuses.
Maybe you just need to get quiet enough to hear it.
I don't just listen to your words.
I watch your face.
I notice your eyes.
I pay attention to your body language.
I hear your tone.
I notice your patterns.
I listen to what you say…
and what you don't.
I notice the silence.
And most importantly?
I trust my intuition.
Not blindly.
Not recklessly.
But enough to stop abandoning myself just to make someone else's behavior make sense.
Because sometimes your intuition isn't being dramatic.
Sometimes it's simply the part of you that's paying attention.
And I'm finally listening.

No comments:
Post a Comment