Yesterday I found a pair of sexy underwear in my washing machine among Bloody Good Chap’s work clothes.

They weren’t mine.

At first I thought, how odd, I wonder how they got there. Then I wondered if they belonged to some guests I had staying the week before.

Then my mind clicked into gear. “HE CHEATED ON YOU!” Nev shouted.

BGC was with me at the time so I held them up and looked at him oddly. He looked back at me oddly. Do you know whose these are? I asked. Aren’t they yours, he replied, seemingly very genuinely.

It’s here that I should state that BGC and I have a relationship like no other I’ve ever known, nor known others to have. We tell each other when we find someone else attractive (like the Brazilian couple on the beach next to us, the girl with no top on!), and it doesn’t phase either of us, we’ve never met anyone so perfect for each of us as each other are, it feels as secure and sure as anything I’ve ever felt.

You know when you just know?

Even writing that my mind says, Andrea, don’t write that, it will be so embarrassing when you have to take it back when you guys break up.

[bctt tweet=”But my mind does shit like that all the time, I ignore him.”]

Anyway, so I trust BGC and know him better that I’ve ever trusted or known anyone I think.

So I found the underwear situation comical, at first, I knew there was no way he’d cheat on me.

Until, a week later, the same thing happened, another load of his work clothes, another pair of sexy underwear that were not mine.

This time my mind announced “Andrea, you dumb b*&$#, you can’t ignore me this time. You’re on the Truman show. Someone is going to come out with a camera any minute and say “Andrea, you are ridiculous. Of course he’s too good to be true. Why would you believe a man when you find someone else’s’ underwear in his washing? TWICE?”

But my gut still said he wasn’t lying.

Naturally he got upset that I’d think he was cheating on me when I know how ridiculously good hearted of a dude he is, and how much he loves me.

So then my mind reminded me that Bridget Jones says that that’s what cheaters do, try to deflect it onto you by making you feel guilty for not trusting them.

Shit, I thought.

But even still, I knew my gut was right. I just knew. My mind wanted drama. He wanted a fight. He wanted me to punish Bloody Good Chap whether he was telling the truth or not. He did not want to consider other options.

So I told BGC that I believed him, though I also told him what my mind was saying, and he understood.

And then we went to bed, no drama, no fight, just a bit weird.

And as my mind fell asleep, I realised. I’d put my white underwear into the wash the day before and forgotten to take them out.

It turns out, BGC’s clothes had somehow only been dying the white lace of my underwear grey, but leaving the white fabric still perfectly white. Cheapo H&M lace I suspect. They looked like completely different underwear, but in fact, the sexy cheating underwear were mine.

When I told BGC this today, he replied

“I’d cheat on you with you any day Dre”.

The moral of the story?

[bctt tweet=”Trust your gut. Not the denial-I-hope-this-isn’t-happening feeling”]

but that deeper knowing that is sure you have better people reading skills than your assume-the-worst mind. Sometimes your mind is right. Sometimes it’s wrong. Only your gut knows the difference.

If you find that you can’t trust your gut instinct… Give mindfulness a go.

It game me back my instinct where previously was a mish mash of confusing mind activity. Check it out here

And don’t leave your white underwear in the washing machine near Bloody Good Chaps.

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