Truth: A Gut is a Terrible Thing to Waste
Intuition is a tricky bitch.
We're magically born with this sixth sense, this guttural voice humming from the depths of our squishy innards, that lights up our central nervous system whenever a decision needs to be considered, e.g.: don't go down that creepy af alley; this relationship is Red Flag City; your best friend might not be a viable business partner; you will most definitely run into your ex today so you better look amazing... (Truly -- I nearly always know when someone I have/had a connection with is within a 1 mile radius and whether or not I'll see them. That's some wild energy shit.)
So we're blessed with this omniscient, internal mechanism -- think of yours however you want: some sort of hissing, primordial ooze, your ajna chakra's third eye, whatever. My intuition looks and sounds like me in 15 years when I'm a brilliant, well-traveled, badass working on my sixth book, wearing funky glasses and giving zero shits about what everyone else thinks. AND bonus: she begins all of her messages to me with "Ooooooh child!" I choose to think of my intuition as a paragon of brilliance and sass whom I respect the hell out of and want to become one day because otherwise I would ignore the shit out of her.
And that's what we do, right? We get self-doubty and we learn to tune our collective gut out. We ask our loved ones for guidance and validation, we stay mired in situations that just aren't working, we drown out our inherent wisdom with so much noise. I don't know about you guys (jk, I absolutely know.), but my gut always tells me when I'm engaged in something that isn't good for me. I'm just figuring out how to trust it.