There's a version of women's intuition that gets dismissed constantly. Written off as overthinking, or sensitivity, or coincidence. Someone will say I just had a feeling & the room will nod politely & move on, & she'll wonder if she imagined it.
She didn't imagine it.
I've come to believe that what we call intuition is the body & something beyond it working together. Your nervous system picking up on signals the conscious mind hasn't processed yet, & something deeper, older, harder to name, confirming what it already knows. Maybe it's woo. Maybe it's biology. Maybe those two things aren't as separate as we've been told. What I know is this. It's real. It arrives through sensation instead of thought. & it has never once steered me wrong.
The problem is we've been taught to trust thought over sensation. To explain things, justify them, make them make logical sense before we're allowed to act on them. & so we override the body again & again. Until it stops whispering & starts screaming.
I pride myself on being a good energy reader. I can feel when something is off with a person. When their intentions don't match their words, when there's something underneath the surface that doesn't quite line up. It's not something I can always explain. It's not a thought, exactly. It's more like a shift in my body. A tightening. A low-grade unease I can't locate but also can't ignore.
I haven't always listened to it. There was someone in my life, someone I was open with, trusting, genuinely fond of, & I missed the signs early on. Or maybe I didn't miss them. Maybe I felt them & explained them away. I'm being paranoid. I'm being uncharitable. Everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. I talked myself out of what my body already knew.
Eventually the truth surfaced the way it always does. Not because I thought my way to it, but because circumstances made it impossible to ignore. & looking back, I can trace the moments my body tried to tell me. The anxiety that would rise when we were together. The way my chest felt different around them than it did around people I genuinely trusted. The low hum of something being not quite right that I kept turning the volume down on.
That's what unlistened-to intuition feels like. Not a lightning bolt. A hum. A tightening. Sometimes a rash on your skin or a racing heart that has no obvious cause. Your body collecting evidence & filing it somewhere you're not quite ready to look.
When I finally walked away, from that situation, from that season, it wasn't because I'd thought it through perfectly. It was because my body had run out of ways to be subtle. The discomfort had become too loud to explain away. & the moment I honored it, the moment I actually listened & moved accordingly, something in me relaxed in a way it hadn't in a long time.
That's what it feels like when you trust your body. Not triumph, not vindication. Just relief. Like you finally stopped arguing with something that was only ever trying to help you.
I think about how different things might have looked if I'd listened earlier. Not with regret. Everything that happened led me here, & I'm grateful for all of it. But with curiosity. With a commitment to not make the same trade-off again. My body's knowing is not a coincidence. It's not hysteria or paranoia or being too sensitive. It's information. & it deserves to be treated like information.
Here's what I've learned about the body's voice. It's always been right. Not sometimes. Always. The situations where I overrode it & later wished I hadn't, every single one of them. The moments where I trusted it, even when I couldn't explain why, every single one of those too.
The body doesn't have an agenda. It's not trying to protect your ego or tell you what you want to hear. It just tells the truth. Quietly at first, in the language of sensation. A flutter, a tightening, a sudden rush of calm or unease. & if you don't listen, it gets louder. Not to punish you. Just because the truth needs to be heard eventually.
Learning to trust your body isn't a destination. It's a practice. It's the daily choice to check in before you override, to ask what am I actually feeling right now before you decide what to do with it. It's learning the difference between fear that's protecting you & fear that's just old wiring. It's staying in the conversation with yourself even when it's uncomfortable.
That's what somatic healing gave me. Not the ability to feel more, but the willingness to listen to what I was already feeling. To stop turning the volume down on my own knowing & start treating it like the reliable, intelligent, deeply personal information that it is.
Your body has been telling you the truth your whole life. The question is whether you're ready to hear it.
If you've been waiting to find your way back to yourself, Remembrance is a free place to start. & The Soft Landing is a 7-day return built for the woman who is ready to stop waiting & come home to her body.
Stay close,
Jess