Intuition vs Anxiety: Can I Trust My Gut Feeling?

A gut feeling arrives way before you have words for it. Your heart rate elevates, theres a sinking feeling in your stomach. You've noticed that the your colleagues smile seems strained. Their tone has changed. A message is shorter than usual. Something registers, even though you can’t yet say what it means.

I’m particularly interested in the social side of gut feelings. We pay close attention to other people because it matters whether we feel safe, welcome or at risk of rejection. That sensitivity has deep roots. For much of human history, belonging to a group could affect your access to care, protection and resources. It makes sense that we still notice small shifts in how others respond to us.

But noticing a shift is different from knowing what it means. A gut feeling might tell me to pay attention; it can’t tell me, on its own, what someone else is thinking. Someone might say, “They told me everything was fine, but I could tell they were annoyed.” When we look more closely, they may have noticed something real: the person was quieter, less engaged, or communicating differently. howwver, They seem quieter today is an observation. They’re annoyed with me is an interpretation. I must have done something wrong is another. I recognise that jump in myself. If someone seems distant, I can find my mind looking for what I might have said or done. The shift I noticed may be real. My explanation for it may still be wrong.

That’s how I understand the difference between intuition and anxiety. Intuition can help us register a pattern or a change worth noticing. Anxiety can then take that information and rush to explain it, often in the way we most fear. If we’ve experienced criticism or rejection, “It must be me” can feel convincing very quickly.

I wouldn’t tell someone to ignore their gut. Sometimes a feeling draws our attention to something important. But I also wouldn’t treat the feeling as proof. Being unsettled tells us that something matters to us; it doesn’t give us access to another person’s thoughts.

In therapy, I often ask: What did you notice? What meaning did you give it? What else might explain it? Those questions create enough space to consider the situation more clearly. They’re useful questions for me too.

Sometimes the answer becomes clearer with time. You notice the same behaviour repeatedly, ask a direct question, or learn that the other person was dealing with something you knew nothing about. And sometimes you have to decide how to respond without knowing for certain. For me, trusting my gut means taking the signal seriously enough to explore it. It also means being willing to question the story I attach to it. I can pay attention, ask when it feels appropriate, and make choices based on what I observe over time. I don’t have to dismiss the feeling or believe every explanation it offers.