YOUR GUT'S NOT TRYING TO BANG YOU

I want to talk about trusting our guts. This is SO IMPORTANT, ladies. You have to trust your own instincts. We're mammals. We have these instincts to protect ourselves. A rabbit won't stand still and tell herself, "I can totally trust that coyote, after all, his mother really likes me."

Time after time I have been that rabbit. My mind was screaming, "Run you dumb ass, run!" But instead, I stood still, my gut in knots, chewing on grass, hoping to God that carnivore closing in on me turns vegan. If I had trusted my gut, right now I would be frolicking in the meadow with my man-rabbit, maybe a few baby bunnies with a nice hole in the ground to call my own. 

Trust your gut, ladies. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Something happens. He left his phone in the hotel room, that's why he didn't return your calls. He was afraid you'd be mad at him for staying out past 2am, that's why he lied to you about it. You feel your face heating up, your stomach tightens, your brow furrows and the lines in your face become all too obvious. The heat from your face starts to fill your entire body. You're thinking, "Is this guy for real?" And your gut is yelling, "Tell that a-hole to go eff himself!" Then you think about the consequences. It'll be over. You won't get to kiss those pink lips, or feel his hot breath whisper "I love you" in your ear anymore. You won't get to ride shotgun in his truck while he fingers through "your" songs on his ipod. You won't get to feel his hands on your skin. You won't be able to ravage that body of his anymore. Never again. The slow-mo movie of the two of you smiling, laughing, hugging, kissing and twirling each other around in the sunshine plays in your head. To a John Mayer song. Then your anger turns to fear and sadness. You tell your gut to shut the hell up and ask your guy, kindly, to never lie to you again. K, honey?

If I could go back to that moment, I would've ended the conversation and chewed on it for a while. Yes, the movie would have played, with the damn John Mayer song, and I would have wanted to call him and tell him it was all ok. But I would have continued to chew on it. Thinking about the fact that he lied to me. I would have chewed on it. And thought about the rest of my life, having to live in his shadiness, chewing on this tough grass when there are all these tasty dandelions and sunny spots out there for me to enjoy. And my gut would have calmly whispered, "Atta girl. Sunny spots. Dandelions. He LIED to you. Sunny spots." 

Your gut has nothing to lose here, gals. Your gut is your best friend. It knows you better than anyone else on earth. That guy who lied to you has a lot to lose! Your phone calls, your back rubs, your front rubs. His daily ego boost. The comfort of having someone to take to parties so people don't think he's just some loser who can't keep a woman. Your gut is just looking out for you. It cares about you, kid. So listen to it. Don't listen to that boy's excuses. If your gut is telling you that he lied to you because he may or may not have been getting a happy ending in some skanky basement massage parlor, thank it for being honest and take the advice being given to you. Your gut is your protector. It's your inner survivor. Don't just stand there and take it. Protect yourself! 

Two things I now believe in strongly: My gut is always right and John Mayer's full of shit.