Disgust- A Guardian Emotion

Disgust is one of those emotions we don’t talk about much, but it quietly shapes a surprising amount of our lives. It shows up in obvious places (spoiled food, unpleasant smells) but also in more subtle ways: a relationship that starts to feel “off,” a conversation that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, a workplace dynamic that makes your skin crawl, or even a version of yourself that no longer feels right. Disgust is an important guardian emotion. It helps us recognize what is unsafe, misaligned, or unhealthy, and nudges us to move away.

What I often see, though, is that people either push their disgust away or feel guilty for having it at all. They worry it makes them judgmental, unkind, or overly sensitive, so they override it, especially in relationships or situations where they’ve been taught to be accommodating. But when you ignore your disgust, you’re essentially silencing one of your internal warning systems. Your most important guardian emotions. Your most important red flag warning. Over time, that can lead to staying in environments that don’t feel right, tolerating behavior that crosses your boundaries (see my article on Toxic Tolerance), or slowly losing trust in your own instincts. Disgust tells you, “I really need to stay away from this thing/value/behavior,” so when we shame or suppress that signal, we become more disconnected from ourselves...and more likely to step in the same mess again.

I often think of disgust like walking through a large wooded dog park. It’s a beautiful place with trees, sunlight, fresh air, and dogs happily running around. But it’s also full of dog poop. You need a certain level of vigilance to navigate it. Disgust is what keeps you scanning the ground just enough to avoid stepping in something unpleasant. Without it, you’d be constantly blindsided. You’d walk straight through mess after mess, wondering why everything feels so awful.

At the same time, if all you do is stare at the ground looking for dog poop, you miss the entire point of being there. You don’t see the light filtering through the trees, you don’t notice the joy of the dogs, and you don’t actually experience the park. Disgust is meant to guide you, not consume your attention. When it becomes the only lens you’re using, life starts to feel contaminated everywhere, even when it isn’t.

And, of course, sometimes we step in it anyway. No matter how careful we are, it happens. In life, this might look like staying too long in a relationship that isn’t good for us, ignoring early warning signs in a situation, or finding ourselves entangled in something that doesn’t align with who we are. When that happens, the task isn’t to shame ourselves or feel overwhelmed or leave the dog park forever...it’s to clean it out. And anyone who has ever tried to clean dog poop out of the grooves of a shoe knows this isn’t quick or easy. It takes time, effort, and patience. You have to get into the little crevices, deal with the mess directly, and stick with it until you feel clear again.

Emotionally, this is the work of processing. It’s setting boundaries, having hard conversations, grieving, repairing, or letting go. It’s uncomfortable, and it doesn’t resolve instantly (the 'ick' gets in those mental crevices just like that poo). But it’s necessary if you want to move forward without carrying that residue with you. The goal is to use your natural disgust signal wisely. Let it alert you. Let it guide your choices. But also, don’t let it steal your attention from what is good, meaningful, and alive around you. You are allowed to notice the mess and still enjoy the park. You are allowed to protect yourself and still stay open to connection, beauty, and joy.

So remember to watch where you step, but don't forget to look around and enjoy the day.