147. When Things Feel Off: Trusting Your Gut After Betrayal

Have you ever looked around and thought, “Everything looks fine, but something still feels wrong”? You’re not alone. After betrayal, it’s normal to feel like you’ve lost touch with your own instincts. Even when things seem calm on the surface, your body might still be scanning for danger, waiting for the next blow. That quiet discomfort? It’s not a flaw; it’s a signal worth listening to.

In this episode, I explore what it really means when things feel off, even when you can’t explain why, and trusting your gut after betrayal. You’ll learn how to distinguish between fear and intuition, and how to rebuild the most important trust of all: trust in yourself.

If you're stuck in self-doubt, gaslighting your own gut, or struggling to feel safe again, this one’s for you.

Key Takeaways:

• Feeling “off” is not paranoia; it’s often your body’s wisdom asking for attention.

• Self-trust begins with listening to your gut, even when logic can’t explain your discomfort.

• Healing means learning to discern between trauma echoes and present-day intuition.

• You don’t need proof to speak up, slow down, or ask for clarity in your relationship.

• Curiosity, not control, is the path to emotional safety and internal alignment.

💬 Reflection Questions:

Have you ever silenced your gut because you were afraid of being “too much”? What helps you tell the difference between fear and intuition?

Connect with Luke:

• Website: www.lifecoachluke.com

• Instagram: @mylifecoachluke

• Email: luke@lifecoachluke.com

Join the After the Affair community at www.facebook.com/groups/aftertheaffaircommunity

Episode Transcript:

The After The Affair podcast with me Luke Shillings is here to help you process, decide and move forward on purpose following infidelity. Together we'll explore what's required to rebuild trust not only in yourself but also with others. Whether you stay or leave I can help and no matter what your story there will be something here for you.

Let's go. Hello and welcome back to the After The Affair podcast. I'm your host Luke Shillings and you're listening to episode number 147.

Relationships are funny. They always seem to look better on the surface than they do underneath, behind the curtains. Particularly when we're looking at it externally, you know, we're looking at the people across the road.

They look happy. Maybe we go on holiday and we see a family together and they look happy. Maybe we're out at a restaurant and we notice a lovestruck couple can't seem to take their eyes away from each other.

And then of course there are moments in your relationship where everything looks fine on the surface. Your partner's saying the right things. They're doing the right things.

Perhaps you're having dinner together. Maybe you're watching a show. Probably even laughing.

But there's something inside. It tightens a little bit. You can't really explain it.

It's not drama. It's not even chaos. It's just like a quiet internal hum.

Something feels off. If that's where you are right now then this episode is probably for you. Because today I want to talk about that hard to name experience.

What it means, where it comes from and how to start trusting yourself again even when there's no obvious reason not to. Let's just say it out loud. One of the hardest parts of healing from betrayal isn't just learning to trust your partner again.

It's learning how to trust yourself. Because betrayal doesn't just shatter your belief in somebody else's loyalty. It shakes the foundation of your own instincts, your gut, your body, your sense of what's real and what's safe.

And even when things look okay on the outside, even when your partner is showing up, or perhaps you're even in a brand new relationship with no obvious red flags, you perhaps still feel unsettled. There's no smoking gun. There's no heated argument.

There's no clear reason. But something just doesn't feel right. It feels tight instead.

Maybe disconnected. You feel wary and your mind starts racing. Am I overreacting? Or am I just traumatised? Am I waiting for something to go wrong because I don't believe that it can go right? It's exhausting.

Because you're not trying to stir up drama. You're just trying to feel safe. You want to be in a happy, content, fulfilling, loving relationship.

Yet there's something inside of you that's holding you back. And when that sense of safety doesn't show up, even in the calmest moments, it's confusing. Especially if everyone else is saying how lucky you are, or how good your relationship looks now, or how far you've come.

Because what they can't see is that something still feels off. It's like the music is playing, but the rhythms just slightly wrong. Or perhaps you're telling a joke.

You say it in the way that sounds right to you, but for some reason the punchline just doesn't quite land. And the hardest part? You don't know if the problem is with them, or with you. Did I say it wrong? Or do they just not get it? You don't know whether to speak up, or to sit with it.

Whether to investigate, or to just let it be. So you do what many people do in this phase of healing. You start questioning your own perception.

Again. You gaslight yourself. Again.

And in doing that, you distance yourself from the very thing that could bring clarity. Your gut. Not paranoia, not overreaction, not hyper-vigilance, but your gut.

Your instincts. The part of you that still knows when something isn't quite aligned. Even if you don't yet quite have the words for exactly why.

And if you've been in that space, where everything looks fine, but nothing feels fine, I just want to say, you are not crazy. You're not broken. You're not failing.

You're healing. And your body hasn't fully exhaled yet. And that, well, it matters.

So let's talk more about what happens when things feel off. But you can't quite point to anything concrete. Because the thing is, betrayal trains you to scan for danger.

It sharpens your radar. It tunes your nervous system into every single pause. Every shift in tone.

Every subtle change in energy. Because once, those tiny things meant something. Once, they were the clues that you missed.

So now, even in moments of peace, your body might still be braced for impact. You're reading between the lines. You're tracking inconsistencies.

You're tuning in so closely to the other person, you forget to check in with yourself. And the question becomes, is this fear? Or is it intuition? Is it trauma? Or is it just that something is truly misaligned? The truth? It could be either. Or both.

Or neither. Because here's what most people misunderstand about trauma. Trauma doesn't always show up as panic.

Sometimes it shows up as disconnection. As a subtle sense that you can't quite settle. As hesitation where there used to be clarity.

So when things feel off, the answer isn't always to react. And it's definitely not to ignore either. The answer is to get curious.

Not suspicious. Not accusing. Just curious.

Curious about what your body is trying to say. Curious about what feels familiar about this dynamic. Curious about how much of this feeling is about now.

And how much is about then. Are we living in the present? Or are we living in a memory? That's not self-doubt. That's what it means to come back to yourself.

Because you're not trying to control anyone. Because you're trying to reconnect with your inner compass. The one that got foggy after betrayal.

You're learning how to discern. Not default. And that is a pretty powerful skill.

Now there's no perfect checklist for this. No secret algorithm that will tell you whether what you're feeling is true or just fear. But there are questions that begin to unpick that confusion.

That not. Not to rush you into a decision. Not to invalidate your emotions.

But to give you awareness. Structure. To help you orient yourself when your internal compass feels scrambled.

Try asking yourself. Am I responding to what's actually happening right now? Or to what I'm afraid might happen? Sometimes our nervous systems reacting to echoes. Not events.

It's not lying. It just doesn't know that you're not in danger right now. Maybe another question you can ask is have I seen a pattern? Or just a moment? One cold conversation is not a red flag.

But do you repeat that over time? There's avoidance, dismissal, inconsistency. That is data. And your system knows the difference if you give it the space to notice.

Am I sitting alone with this? Or have I brought it into conversation? Unspoken discomfort has a way of growing roots. Of convincing you that you're the problem. But sometimes just saying it aloud.

Be that to a therapist, a coach, a safe friend. It can pull you out of that echo chamber and back into clarity. And here's where it gets somewhat nuanced.

Feeling off doesn't always mean something's wrong with the relationship. Sometimes it means something's unresolved in you. Sometimes your body is just grieving the version of you that didn't have to scan for signals.

Sometimes it's reminding you that safety isn't just about them changing. It's about you listening. Listening to your tension, your hesitations, your instincts.

Because when you've been through betrayal, your awareness becomes a tool of survival. And like any tool, it can be used to build, not just defend. So if you're feeling off, you don't need to justify it.

You don't need to rush to a conclusion. But you do need to listen. You're not dramatic for noticing what others might ignore.

You're not needy for asking questions that matter. You're not broken for feeling discomfort in moments that look fine. You are aware.

You are wise. You are healing. And when you stop treating that awareness like a threat and start treating it like a guide, that's when you begin to trust yourself again.

Even when things still feel a little uncertain. There are times however when off actually is something. It isn't always just trauma echoes or old wounds bubbling up.

Sometimes that uneasy feeling in your gut isn't imaginary. Sometimes your body isn't reacting to the past. It's responding to something that's still happening.

Maybe it's subtle. Maybe it's just a shift in tone. A pause that lasts too long.

The way they brush past a pick or make eye contact just a beat too late. Maybe they're saying the right things, reading the books, showing up to therapy, but something still feels missing. Off.

And deep down you know the difference. You know what emotional closeness feels like. You know what it's like when someone is being real with you and when they're keeping something just out of reach.

And here's what I want you to hear. You don't need a confession to trust your instincts. You don't need concrete proof to honour the reality of your response.

Because your body is evidence. That unease in your chest. That tension in your shoulders.

That breath you didn't realise you were holding. It's data. It's telling you a story.

It may not tell you everything. It may not point to a neat conclusion. But it does deserve your attention.

Now does that mean you act on every uncomfortable feeling? No. But you do listen to it. With tenderness.

With curiosity. Because even if what you're sensing turns out to be more about fear than fact, your fear still matters. But why? Because when you ignore that internal alarm, you don't just silence discomfort.

You silence yourself. And every time that you do that, you drift a little further from your own truth. So when something feels off, you've got a choice.

You can push it down. Talk yourself out of it. And keep pretending the feeling isn't there.

Or you can pause. Breathe. Turn inward.

And ask, what might this feeling be trying to tell me? What part of me feels unseen? Unsafe? Unsettled? What do I need, right now, to feel more grounded? You might not get a perfect answer. But you will start a dialogue with a part of you that's been trying to get your attention. And that dialogue, that's where clarity begins.

Because feeling off doesn't mean you're overreacting. It means you're alive to your own experience. And that is never something to apologise for.

This part is so important. You don't need proof to slow things down. You don't need permission to ask for space, or clarity, or reassurance.

You don't need to wait until things are unbearable to say, something doesn't feel right, and I want to talk about it. That is not control. That is self-trust.

And rebuilding self-trust doesn't mean you always get it right. It just means you listen. It means you stop silencing your gut out of fear of being too much, or too damaged.

It means you honour your inner compass, even when the map isn't clear. Here's what I want to leave you with. Feeling off doesn't mean you failed.

It doesn't mean your relationship is doomed. And it doesn't mean you're broken. It just means something in you is asking for attention.

So give it to it. Sit with it. Speak it.

Let it guide, not control, but guide your next step. Because healing after betrayal isn't about never being triggered again. It's about learning to trust the difference between fear and intuition.

And to know that you are allowed to check in with yourself, even when nothing's wrong. You are allowed to take space, even when no one else understands why. And you are allowed to trust your gut, even before your mind can explain it.

That's not fear. That's growth. And that's you.

If this episode resonated, or if you felt that quiet discomfort and didn't know what to call it, this is your sign that you're not alone. And that your body's wisdom is not a problem to fix. It's a signal to honour.

Thank you for joining me again this week on the After the Affair podcast. I've been your host Luke Shillings. If you want to get in touch, drop me a message at luke at lifecoachluke.com or come and join us over at Instagram at mylifecoachluke.

I'll pop the details in the show notes as always. Okay, I look forward to speaking to you all again next week. Take care, goodbye.