Mutuality disappears the moment only one person decides when things move forward.
At first, it feels balanced. You’re both present. Both engaged. Both reading the situation. But then you notice something subtle: nothing continues unless she allows it to. The next moment doesn’t arrive naturally—it waits for her signal.
That’s when you realize this isn’t shared momentum. It’s guided momentum.
She doesn’t rush to keep things equal. She doesn’t mirror your pace to maintain symmetry. Instead, she sets her own rhythm and lets you adjust to it. Every continuation becomes a choice she makes, not an outcome you arrive at together.
You start to wait without being told to. You hold back, not because you’re unsure, but because moving forward without her cue feels wrong. That hesitation is where mutuality quietly dissolves.
What replaces it isn’t force—it’s permission.
When she decides when things continue, she positions herself as the reference point. You’re no longer checking in with the moment; you’re checking in with her. Her timing becomes the structure everything else fits into.
This doesn’t feel confrontational. In fact, it often feels calmer. Clearer. You know exactly where you stand, even if you’re not leading anymore.
And that’s the truth behind the illusion of equality in moments like this:
If continuation depends on her decision, the dynamic was never mutual in the first place.
It was responsive.
And you were already following.
