“Follow your heart” is among the most common pieces of advice we receive, and perhaps one of the most misleading. The phrase suggests that the heart is something separate from us, almost like a guide standing a few steps ahead on the path. It evokes the image of a clear signal: a flashing arrow, a green light, a destination illuminated in the distance. We imagine that if we are patient enough, our hearts will reveal the answer.
The problem is that the heart is not outside of us. It is inside us. If our heart were external, we could inspect it, compare its directions against a map, and verify its instructions with our eyes. Instead, we are asked to trust something that is often difficult to distinguish from fear, desire, fantasy, habit, or social conditioning.
The challenge of life is not simply following the heart. It is learning how to hear it in the first place. This is where many modern discussions about intuition become unhelpfully romantic. We are told that signs are everywhere. We are encouraged to look for synchronicities, symbols, and clues from the universe. We are advised to pay attention when something repeatedly appears in our lives. And there is wisdom in this.
Outside signs can be deeply meaningful. Certain books arrive at precisely the right moment. A sentence overheard in passing can linger in the mind for weeks. A particular image, place, color, or person can seem to illuminate something we have been struggling to understand. Yet signs are not instructions. They are communications. And like all forms of communication, they require interpretation.
A sign is only as useful as our ability to understand what it is actually saying. The mistake is to assume that meaning exists entirely within the symbol itself. In reality, meaning emerges through the relationship between the symbol and the person encountering it.
A recurring image of travel, for example, does not necessarily mean we should book a flight. It may be communicating a longing for expansion, independence, adventure, or change. The surface message is rarely the deepest one.
This is why self-knowledge matters so profoundly. Before we can understand what a sign means, we must understand what we are seeking. We must know our intentions. We must become familiar with our fears, desires, ambitions, and vulnerabilities. Otherwise, we risk interpreting every sign as confirmation of what we already want to believe. Without self-awareness, a sign can become a projection. With self-awareness, it can become guidance.
The same principle applies to beauty. We often approach makeup as a collection of techniques. We ask what is flattering, what is trending, what works for our features. These are worthwhile questions. But beneath them lies a more important one: What am I trying to communicate?
Every beauty choice says something, whether consciously or unconsciously. A bold red lip communicates something different than a barely-there gloss. Sharp liner tells a different story than softened edges. Even the decision to wear no makeup at all carries meaning.
The goal is not to decide which message is universally correct. The goal is to understand our intention before we begin speaking.
Many of us have had the experience of recreating a look that appears beautiful on someone else only to find that it feels strangely disconnected on us. The issue is rarely the makeup itself. More often, we have borrowed a language without understanding what we wanted to say. We followed the symbol without understanding its meaning.
By contrast, when we begin with intention, beauty becomes less performative and more expressive. We stop asking, “How should I look?” and start asking, “What aspect of myself am I trying to bring forward today?” Confidence? Playfulness? Sophistication? Softness? Rebellion? The products become secondary. The intention becomes primary. Perhaps this is true of following the heart as well. The heart does not always point us toward a specific destination. More often, it helps us recognize what resonates with our deeper intentions. It allows us to distinguish between what merely attracts our attention and what genuinely aligns with who we are becoming.
The signs we encounter along the way can help. Inspiration can help. Trends can help. Other people can help. But none of these things can tell us what our lives mean. They can only offer symbols.
The work of understanding those symbols belongs to us. And that work begins with a question that is both simple and difficult: What am I truly trying to create?
The clearer we become about that answer, the more useful the signs become. The more meaningful our beauty choices become. The more intelligible our hearts become.
Following your heart, then, is not a matter of chasing signals in the outside world. It is the ongoing practice of understanding yourself well enough to know what those signals are trying to tell you.