The first time I trusted my intuition, I recognised the voice. She had spoken to me many times before, but this time it was different. This time I was willing to listen to her because I was no longer ignoring my feelings. This time, her words spun silk webs through my body, and each web caught its prey: a feeling that brought back a memory of why she was right.  

It was early hours in the morning; my heart, constricted by the webs, was beating its hardest, and my stomach was doing the dance to welcome the grim reaper.

My best friend at the time, who I saw as a sister, was trying to scam me for money, and I had to confront her. Lying in my bed, head turned facing the window on my warm pillow, listening to the parakeets outside my window, I was scared of what I was going to lose. 

I was scared of being wrong, and I was scared of trusting myself because I had made some major fuck ups from trusting myself: having children with the wrong person and still suffering the consequences of that action. But once I had listened to my intuition, I couldn’t ignore it. 

So I decided to journal the pros and cons of acting on my intuition. The con was losing my friend and being horribly wrong. The pros were respecting myself, protecting myself, and trusting myself on bigger things like this. 

The list wasn’t enough. I needed more proof. 

I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. I did this three times. My mind transformed from Paddington Station during rush hour to the beautiful beach at Botany Bay. White cliffs, warm sand, and a tide that’s still rousing from its slumber- I began to focus on my breath. I placed my hand on my heart and asked a simple question: Is it true? 

“Yes,” she said. 

Tears began to gather between my closed eyelids, like a dam holding way too much; it broke, the tears were released, and I sobbed as though I was my 3-year-old self watching my mother walk away after dropping me off at nursery. The webs around my heart broke; they were no longer needed.

I had acknowledged the truth. I had acknowledged her, my intuition. 

The truth was now all around me like black prison bars; I could not escape it. I wanted to avoid the confrontation, so I took up a shovel and tried to dig my way out, but the bars went deep. I told myself that I was moving in silence. She doesn’t need to know that I know. You know what they say: don’t tell the left hand what the right hand is doing, but that window was too small to climb through. 

I looked at the cage I was in. It was not locked, but if I was to walk out of it as a free woman, I’d have to confront her. The grim reaper began dancing again, and in my mind Paddington station had begun its rush hour service. I grabbed the one comfort the prison wardens had given me: pen and paper. I  began to write down what I would say in this confrontation. 

Up until this point, I’ve only ever witnessed confrontations to be battlegrounds. Maybe, this time round, there’ll be no machine gun fire, so I won’t build a trench. I write down exactly what I want to say. The words come so easily; it’s like they were in line ready to be called upon. And like steam released from the kettle signalling the water is ready, my body turns from stiff to relaxed as it releases the tension it has been carrying. 

The prison door swings open. The prison wardens shout, “Sage, it’s time to go.” 

I’m washed and dressed, phone in my hand, my thumb hovering over the call button. I move to my favourite spot in my home, my bedroom window, where I’m 8 floors up, and the city of London is my skyline view. I press the call button; it rings, and I focus on the Gherkin building and Tower 42. 

She answers; we joke as we always did at the beginning of our calls. She speaks to me about the “business opportunity,” and I tell her I know it’s a scam. I asked her what her cut was. She tells me. It’s a paltry amount. I told her I would have given her that money and much more without ever wanting to be repaid. She apologised and felt foolish about being influenced by someone else doing the same thing to their own family members. 

But something shifts in me, and the veil has dropped. I loved and valued her so much that whatever I had, I always shared and gave her half. But in that moment, I realised she never valued or loved me. She wasn’t being malicious or sinister. It’s that she had not loved and valued herself yet. And I had given more than I should have.

My intuition wasn’t just right. My intuition also gave me the gift of sight. 

How do I know if my intuition is right?

If you look back at my story, you will see that once I took action, the proof appeared. I’ve also noticed that even when I do not listen to my intuition, that proof will always show me that my intuition is right. The issue is not about knowing if your intuition is right; the issue is you do not trust it. And if you do not trust it, then you also do not trust yourself. 

Trusting yourself is the first step to trusting your intuition. Once you’ve done that, trusting your intuition will get easier. 

Can you trust your gut instinct?

Always! The real question is: do you trust yourself? 

Click here to read: how to learn to trust yourself

Unfortunately, we’ve been conditioned to believe that making mistakes means doom and gloom, but how many times have you made a mistake that taught you something you may never have learned if you didn’t make the mistake in the first place? Making mistakes is a requirement for growth. 

This is why we’ve been conditioned to look outside ourselves for answers, because it leads to outsourcing your decisions, but all the answers you need are already within you. 

You can trust your gut once you start trusting yourself.

Now I hear you ask, how? When I wanted to start trusting myself, I started with making small promises to myself. The first one I ever made was making sure I made my bed as soon as I woke up. I did this for 30 days and journaled my findings about myself. After 30 days, I made another promise, slightly bigger than the previous one. I did this for one year. By the end of the year, I became someone I could depend on. I knew I had my back, and I trusted that no matter what happened, I would be fine. 

Is it my gut or am I overthinking?

You tell me. I am not your guru. You are. 

Click here to read: why spirituality has no rules or gurus 

You know when you’re overthinking, and you know when it’s your gut. You just want someone to tell you, but I need you to tell yourself. 

What are 3 tips to strengthen my intuition? 

1. Learn to trust yourself first, and then listening to your intuition will come naturally, and that in itself will strengthen it. 

2. Using meditation to hear your inner voice helps strengthen your intuition, because it allows you to quiet the mind and be still. I do this every day. Meditating daily is a good spiritual practice and discipline. 

Download my free 12-minute meditation

3. Understand how your intuition shows up. For some people, including myself, it’s not just our gut. Sometimes my intuition shows up as visions where I have to pace the room as I receive it to embody the message. Sometimes it’s a voice, and other times, I will feel it. I had to know myself first before I could allow myself to trust how my intuition showed up. 

How has trusting your intuition improved your life?