Have you ever been in a situation or near a person and something just felt off? You couldn’t explain it but knew you needed to get away? Based on these stories, you’re going to want to trust that feeling from here on out! People share shocking stories about trusting their gut and it paying off in the end. This content has been edited for clarity.
Fake Name
“I started seeing someone I met on a dating app. He gave me his name (his last name was McHuggin), and it sounded silly, but he was adamant it was his real name. I saw him several times, and in between, I would try to Google him. Nothing ever came up. He said it was because he had been stalked by someone previously and valued his privacy. He was nervous that I’d even mentioned looking him up, and tried to make me feel like I was engaging in stalker behavior for even trying.
He was trying to force a serious relationship out of me very quickly. He would casually mention that we should look at places to possibly live together in the future. He would ask if I wanted to get married (in general – not specifically to him) one day. I think he said he loved me after just two or three times of going out. I have experience with men with low esteem, and this is a huge indicator of this, so I blew it off by telling him that’s fine, but I’m still developing trust.
The first and only time I had him over to my apartment, I got that weird feeling in my gut. The one saying ‘You’re being lied to’ and ‘You should not be around this person’ and ‘There is something fundamentally wrong with his behavior.’ He went to the bathroom and was in there awhile. My gut kept telling me I needed to get him out of there altogether.
Then I noticed his wallet was on my coffee table. It felt wrong to go snooping in someone’s wallet, but I had just one goal: find his ID to confirm his name. If I could just do that, I thought, I would feel better. Well surprise-surprise, his name was NOT McHuggin. I quickly used my phone to Google his actual name. The very first post to come up is a wedding-planning website. He was engaged to be married.
I couldn’t understand it. Why go through the hassle of trying to make me promise to be monogamous, or talk about possible future marriage/living together, or any of those things, when I clearly wasn’t ready for any of that anyways? If you’re going to cheat on your fiancée, why bother with those manipulations if I wasn’t having it anyways? It was so weird. And I was alone with someone much bigger than me who was a liar and possibly unstable.
I pretended everything was fine until he left and I was sure he was home a few hours away. I then told him I had his real name and address and had shared it with my brother. I said if he ever came around me again, my brother would be sure to track him down and/or share it with the police. Never heard from him again.”
Mr. X
“One of the first big ones was when I was about 10. I had a teacher that was very well-liked by parents, students, and other teachers. I had really liked him in the years before I had his class. But the year I had him as a teacher, I felt strongly that something had shifted. He wasn’t the same person anymore.
I did not have the language to explain it to my parents. I just kept telling them that I didn’t like Mr. X. They believed me, but couldn’t tell if I just didn’t like the subject he taught. They asked a million questions trying to understand, but I really couldn’t figure out how to elaborate. I never said I was scared. I never said he gave me the creeps. I just didn’t like him and I didn’t know why. There were a lot of crazy things going on with my family that year, so it wasn’t something that rang all the alarm bells.
Very sadly, the next year, the news was all over the TV. There he was, Mr. X in handcuffs. He had been accused of abusing young girls. Girls he had in class. Girls my age.
I jumped up and down and screamed, pointing at the TV, ‘I KNEW IT! I TOLD YOU! HE IS BAD!’
My mother’s jaw dropped and her eyes were wide. She was shocked. Nothing I had ever said made her think he was capable of doing THAT. And quite frankly, at that age, I didn’t even understand what THAT was. I just knew it was bad.
My Mom and I discussed it a lot over the next few months and years. In my teens, I told my Mom that Mr. Z, someone at our church, made my stomach hurt the same way Mr. X had.
She listened, was thoughtful, and then said ‘Kate, to be truthful, I don’t get that same feeling from him. But I hear you. I respect you. I trust your gut. I commit to you that neither your Dad nor I will allow Mr. Z inside our home. You never need to be alone with him ever for any reason. If you are ever in a situation that makes you uncomfortable, you have full authority to do or say whatever you feel necessary to get away, even if you have to lie.’
Mr. Z might be harmless. Nothing ever came out about him. But the fact that both my parents doubled down to have my back about a ‘feeling’ gave me incredible confidence to draw boundaries and recognize red flags as I grew into adulthood.”
Renting A Prison Cell
“This was a couple of years back when I was looking for my first apartment. I lived in Utah where KSL is the most popular platform to search for roommates and houses to rent. I didn’t want to spend an outrageous amount on housing due to my job. I was working most of the time so I just needed a place to crash.
I ended up finding a room for rent at 350 dollars per month. It was located in a nice neighborhood downtown. I did, however, notice there was only one image of the room provided, and it was blurry. I had mixed feelings about that. I thought it was probably an older person that didn’t know much about technology, or sometimes people don’t like to display images of their houses.
In the description, it said a few concerning things like not having people over, having to be quiet, and a preference for a young female student. I was young and naive and didn’t understand that not everyone is nice in this world. I kind of ignored the sketchy things but decided to bring my guy friend just in case.
The house was cute, well taken care of from the outside, and the neighborhood seemed nice. I rang the doorbell as my friend was getting something out of the car. An older Asian man (I’d say in his late 40s) opened the door, smiled at me, and started speaking in broken English. When my friend came up from behind me, the man’s face kind of dropped, and his attitude changed a bit. We exchanged a couple of sentences.
Finally, I asked where the room was. I already knew this wasn’t the place for me, and wanted to get it over with so we could leave.
He took us to the end of the hallway where there was a long narrow stairway down to the only room in the basement. My friend is about 6’1 and had a hard time getting down those stairs. When we got to the bottom, the man pulled out a handful of keys. It was dark down there so we didn’t notice at first, but there was a huge lock on the room. I looked at my friend and he had the biggest eyes looking at me.
The man opened the room, which looked like a prison cell. It was about 6×6 with no bathroom or closet. There was one tiny 2×2 window with bars on it! The man started explaining how I could use the space. I was ready to get out, so I said we were leaving. Once we got in the car, we were freaking out!
I was very lucky I had my friend with me. I regret not calling the police to surveil the place just in case. I would definitely go check up on it now if I still had the address.
If you have children that are about ready to live on their own, please teach them to always bring a friend and be safe!”
Close Call
“When I was first married, I took a night shift at a convenience store for some extra cash. With the exception of a few shoplifters, it was an uneventful job. One night shortly after I started my shift, there was a man who came in and asked for directions to a road I wasn’t familiar with. I asked my coworker who hadn’t left after his shift and he wasn’t familiar with the road either. The man thanked us and left the store. Two minutes later, he was back in the store and asked for a pack of smokes. Now the hair stood up on the back of my neck. In my mind, he was casing out the store and trying to get the nerve to rob us.
After he left, I dialed 911 and I reported my suspicions to the operator. They were on their way. Meanwhile, my coworker said he was leaving and I informed him,
‘No, you’re not, not until the police arrive!’
He said I was nuts but he stayed nonetheless. The man came back in asking for yet another pack of smokes. At that point, I was waiting for a loaded weapon or a knife to be pulled on me. As he started to pay me, I saw two police cars pull into the parking lot from two directions with the lights blazing. The man flew out of the front door and jumped into a running car. They caught him less than five minutes later.
It turned out he had multiple warrants for his arrest, most notably for illegal possession of weapons. He had a loaded weapon in his jacket pocket and there was another in his car. I received a bonus in my paycheck for my actions but I quit a few weeks later. I had a newborn at home! I was looking forwards to watching him grow up and I didn’t want to tempt fate a second time around.”
Who’s Ron?
“A colleague, Barbara, once told me she’d met the man of my dreams. My dreams?
Barbara was engaged to the owner of a small restaurant in a city about 20 miles from my town. Ron, the man she referred to, had been eating at that restaurant two or three times a week for several months. Over time, as a good-natured, outgoing guy and a generous tipper, he had become friendly with the waitstaff, the owner, and Barbara. He claimed he had trouble meeting quality women and asked if Barbara would introduce him to one of her friends.
He claimed he had a grant to do research at three local hospitals. He was nice-looking and seemed to be well-read, well-spoken, well-traveled, and had a good sense of humor. When Barbara asked if she could give him my phone number, I agreed.
We had a great phone conversation and arranged to meet in the bar of a restaurant near me. We always had a nice time together and were soon dating about twice a week and speaking by phone every couple of days.
However, I never felt comfortable having him come to my home. No matter where we went from there, we continued to meet at that bar. He never questioned why, although one night he said it felt as if I had a wall around me. He asked if I was always that way or if it had to do with him specifically. I replied it was a bit of both, that something just didn’t feel right.
He wanted to know what I thought it was and I told him I truly had no idea. He kept pressing me to tell him what might be the problem. I kept repeating that I didn’t know why, but my gut feeling was that something was ‘off.’ This was on a Wednesday night.
The next day, I phoned Barbara to ask what she truly knew about Ron other than what he had merely told her. The answer: nothing. In fact, we found some differences between the stories we’d gotten. He told her he’d traveled extensively in Europe. He told me he’d traveled throughout Asia but had never been to Europe. He told her he had a Ph.D. in biochemistry. He told me his degree was in microbiology. Several other little disparities. Nothing huge, but the details didn’t match.
A number of police officers were regulars at the restaurant. When Ron came there for dinner Thursday, the owner sent a busboy to the parking lot to get Ron’s license plate so one of the police friends could check him out. However, Ron happened to notice and punched the young man so hard he lost consciousness. Ron took the paper where the busboy had written the first part of his license and left.
Ron never returned to the restaurant and I never heard from him again. Something was certainly wrong, but I guess I’ll never know what.
Trust your gut!”
Slow Down
“This was over 50 years ago, but I still see it clearly. It was about 2:30 a.m. on a weekend as I was heading home from a date. I was driving on I-65 going through Louisville. A car in front of me was going a little slower than I cared and I started to pass them. I had a funny feeling almost like a voice said slow down, so I did.
In just a few seconds, a car heading north on the other side lost a boat trailer (no boat, thank goodness) and it started sliding along the guard rail with sparks flying. The trailer tongue dug in and the trailer went end over end through the air. It somersaulted over the barricade and the trailer tongue speared the car I was about to pass. Had I passed the car, it would have gone through my windshield and possibly me.
I stopped and checked on the car. It was a young couple with the girl in hysterics and starting to go into shock. I had a blanket in my car and got it wrapped around her. She calmed down a bit and the boy seemed really nervous. They weren’t supposed to be out with each other, and their parents were going to be ticked. Considering that the trailer tongue went through the door and barely missed his legs, everyone should be happy nothing else happened.”
Hold Your Ground
“I was 16 and driving my mom’s car to run an errand for her at dusk one evening. There was no interstate around our town at the time, so a state highway ran through the town, the only route from east to west and vice versa. There was a traffic light at the intersection of that highway and the road I was on, with an active train track about two car lengths from the highway. I was the first car to the red light, and there was one car behind me.
I was as rocking out to the radio in moms car and trying to decide if I should burn rubber at the green light, sort of just waiting for the opportunity, really. A few minutes is an eternity to an impatient teenager, but the light finally turned green. At the exact same moment, something inside me made me hesitate for just the right amount of time, irritating the driver behind me who laid on his horn, but I still held my ground.
After a few seconds, I watched an eighteen-wheeler on the highway run the red light in front of me. This guy was going at least 70 mph, and never even slowed down for the intersection. If I had peeled out, or even proceeded normally, I would never have lived through the impact. Seatbelts were not required by law back then, but I have worn mine since that night and I’ve never peeled out at an intersection. It was the best driving lesson I ever got!
Bus Stop
“This was 45 years ago. I was a young woman, 19, and went out to visit work friends. I took a bus since Chicago was an easy city to traverse by train and bus. It was an early evening in early winter, but already gloomy. My friends lived at the edge of the city on a street near forest preserves. I walked to the bus stop I needed to get home which was near a closed-up shop on the same corner.
A man shorter than me and totally nondescript with a newsboy cap pulled low on his forehead appeared before me and asked when the next bus was coming. This was the first stop after the bus turn around that was located in the nearby forest. Every cell in my body screamed to get away and I said I didn’t know and hurried away. There were three flat apartments nearby in the next block and I ducked into the hall of one.
I waited in that hall, no one came or went, and I waited for a bus to go past. Once it did, I ventured out and saw the same man in the distance, hunched next to the closed-up shop with his hand in his pocket. I actually screamed and hurried back to the hallway and rang the doorbells. A young man and his wife popped out and I told them what happened and to please call a cab. The young man looked out but the creeper was gone. They were very kind and invited me in but I declined and waited for my cab.
The next morning, there was a news report on the radio that helicopters were searching in that forest, near where I had been waiting, for a known offender and murderer. I’m still shaking my head over this event. I learned very early on to trust my gut.”
Sketchy Car
“I used to live in a big house in a nice neighborhood that was close to my school, so I’d walk to and from. One day, I was walking home with my friend and once we got to my driveway, we stood there and talked for a while. As we were talking, a black car pulled up and parked next to my driveway. After a few minutes, the car started again and drove off.
I normally wouldn’t have thought anything of this, but the car came back and did the same thing three more times. I started to get a horrible gut-wrenching feeling, so after his third run, I waited until he left again and quickly pulled my friend inside. I locked all the doors, turned on my alarm system, and closed all the blinds. I then proceeded to call my mom and explain the situation.
My friend thought I was making a big deal and that the car was probably just lost, but I couldn’t shake the gut-wrenching feeling I had. My mom called the police and rushed home. I explained what I saw to the cop, and he took his notes and left. My mom then suggested we go to the neighborhood’s homecoming parade to clear our heads.
A few hours later, we came home and my mom checked an app that gives us recent updates on our neighborhood. It turned out the house across the street from us got broken into while everyone was at the parade. I bet it was the car constantly stopping in front of my house and he was probably taking pictures or scoping the place out. My mom had cameras installed a week later.”
High School Sweetheart
“I was married at 19 and pregnant just three months later with our first child. Secretly, I was still in love with my high school sweetheart of four years who had broken my heart to pieces when I found the pictures of him and another girl. I never ever saw that coming. He got the girl pregnant and married her.
Out of pure heartache and pain, I wanted a relationship and to be married too. I thought that it would feel better than being alone. I asked a guy I knew from school if he would like to get married and was determined to make him my prince. He seemed to like me too and was the one guy throughout school that had always professed his love for me knowing I had a serious boyfriend. It seemed like it could be my ticket to better days and maybe make my ex a little jealous in the meantime. Lucky for me (or so I thought), he said yes.
Fast forward to our one-year anniversary, our little girl only three days old slept in her car seat right between us as we celebrated our milestone at a low-budget restaurant. As luck would have it, I was pregnant again nine months later and we welcomed our first son into the world. By this time, the old love of my life finally took a backseat to my heart as my babies filled it with so much joy.
This is when things took a bad turn in the marriage. My young husband, now 21, was ready to start checking out the bar scene. That’s what everyone else our age was doing. Me being the nice wife felt sorry for him and encouraged him to enjoy life. The problem was when he started enjoying it too much. Every weekend he would go out and stay with his buddy. This is when my stomach aches began. We had reached a boiling point when he started skipping the kid’s games due to late nights and all-day hangovers.
I was certain he was cheating, I could feel it every time he walked out the door. I was always aware that intuition existed but never experienced it until this point. My gut was telling me to run but I didn’t want to fail at marriage as my parents did. So I started picking up the slack to make up for my husband’s shortfalls as a father. I worked full time and traveled a lot but still would drive two hours home just to make my kid’s games. I stayed up late making sure they had everything prepared ahead of time to make life simpler for my kids.
My husband’s weekends were turning into weekdays too and slowly I felt that pain creeping back. My son confirmed what my stomach had been trying to tell me for the last couple of years.
One day he said, ‘Dad was dancing with a girl by the campfire and I saw him kiss her, mom.’
Here is the sad part. I know my son told the truth but when I confronted his dad, he said he was making stuff up. He admitted to dancing with a ‘friend’ but assured me that was it. Our son made the rest up. However, he was remorseful it seemed for his ‘dance’ and life went on. As luck would have it, I got pregnant with our third child. I tried to believe it was a blessing after 15 years of marriage.
As my stomach grew bigger and his nights began to get longer and longer again, I started to feel that gut feeling I had felt so many years before. This time it wasn’t just affecting me. My pregnancy was taking the brunt of it. As my suspicions grew of his extramarital activity, so did my blood pressure. My doctor became concerned and put me on bed rest or I would have to deal with the possibility of losing my baby.
One night after giving the kids baths and putting them to bed, I decided to take one myself. My husband stayed home that night so I thought I didn’t have to worry and felt at peace for a moment. It was then as I soaked into the warm tub, I heard his 68 bronco fire up in the driveway. My heart sank as I ran out to see if it was really him leaving without saying a word. I grabbed a sundress, threw it on, jumped in my car, and drove rapidly trying to find him.
My stomach was turning like never before. An intense burning feeling was telling me ‘you need to see this.’ As I caught a glimpse of his bronco going around the corner, I knew he was parking at a nearby school. Slowly I drove in turning off my lights as I could see in the distance a shadowy figure walking towards him. It was a girl I was familiar with jumping into my seat in the bronco we bought together and she was driving away with my husband.
I ran towards him screaming begging for him to please help me as I felt the worst pain in my life rip through my body. I was screaming and crying while he looked at me as if I was disgusting and drove off. I collapsed to the ground and went unconscious. I woke up in the parking lot lying in the gravel. I then remembered my other two babies were at home alone. I drove as fast as I could back home and found him sleeping in their beds as if nothing ever happened.
The next morning, I was admitted to the hospital and put on medication to keep me from having labor. I asked for a divorce and a battle pursued. Our youngest son was born healthy and happy and I was grateful for that. After 20 years of marriage, it was finally over. That pain in my stomach that tried to warn me over and over has not been back.”
