Trust Your Gut More

Be Kind, But Not Desperate.

We’re taught to be kind.

To be agreeable, polite, warm, and understanding. We’re taught to give the benefit of the doubt, to make space for others, to smooth the tension in a room.

And kindness, genuine kindness, is a beautiful thing. It’s what allows us to meet people with grace, to show up with softness in a complex world.

But what we aren’t always taught is that kindness without boundaries can quickly turn into something else.

Desperation.

The kind of desperation that keeps you nodding when your gut says no.

The kind that says, If I give more, they’ll stay. If I soften more, they’ll like me. If I abandon myself just a little, maybe they’ll come closer.

But genuine kindness doesn’t require self-abandonment.

And trusting your gut is not the opposite of kindness; it’s the foundation of it.

Because your gut speaks a language older than logic, it’s your body’s first response. A tightening in the chest. A twist in the stomach. A feeling that something is off before you have the words to explain why.

Most of us feel it, but we’ve been trained to override it. To stay nice. To keep the peace. To not make things awkward.

But here’s the truth: your gut doesn’t need permission to speak. It’s already talking. The question is whether or not you’re willing to listen.

When you override your intuition to be liked, you teach yourself that external approval matters more than internal peace. That being agreeable is more valuable than being honest. Keeping others comfortable is more important than keeping yourself safe.

That’s not kindness. That’s fear in disguise.

Trusting your gut doesn’t mean you stop being kind.

It means you stop confusing kindness with overextending.

It means you recognise the difference between generosity and self-sacrifice. Between compassion and codependency.

You can be kind and still say no.

You can care about people and still walk away from relationships that drain you.

You can want connection and still choose solitude when something doesn’t feel right.

Let’s be clear: kindness without boundaries is not love. Its performance.

And performing kindness while ignoring your gut leads to resentment, burnout, and a slow erosion of self-trust.

You start to doubt yourself, not because your instincts are wrong, but because you stopped listening to them.

So start listening again.

Start noticing what your body knows before your brain catches up.

Start paying attention to the way you feel after specific conversations. The way your energy rises or falls in particular spaces. The way some interactions leave you feeling fuller, and others leave you hollow.

These are clues.

Your gut is not perfect. But it’s wise.

It remembers what your mind wants to forget. It tells the truth before it’s polite. And trusting it doesn’t make you rude. It makes you real.

It means you stop chasing love.

You stop clinging to the people who don’t see you.
You stop twisting yourself into versions you don’t recognise just to be chosen.
You stop staying in rooms where your silence is safer than your voice.

Because desperation is loud, it says, Please like me, I’ll do anything. But self-respect is quiet. It says, I don’t need to be enjoyed by everyone, I need to stay close to what’s true.

You don’t need to prove your worth to anyone.

The right people will not require you to abandon yourself to be in their presence.

They will feel at ease.

Like alignment.

Like trust that doesn’t need to be earned over and over.

So yes, be kind.

Be soft. Be open. Be generous with your love.

But let your gut lead the way.

It’s not here to make your life smaller. It’s here to keep your life honest.

You don’t need to justify what you feel.
You need to believe that you’re allowed to protect your energy.

That you’re allowed to love people and still say goodbye.
That you’re allowed to walk away when staying would mean disappearing.

You can be kind and still be clear.
You can be warm and still be wise.
You can care deeply and still choose yourself.