I don’t play hard to get. That’s never been my game. I don’t need to be chased or proven right. I just move slowly where I’ve learned to be cautious. When you’ve handed your heart to people who held it carelessly, you stop offering it so freely. You start watching how someone listens, how they handle quiet moments, how they respond when you’re not easy to understand. You start noticing the difference between someone who wants you and someone who values you.

It’s not about making anyone work harder. It’s about protecting the parts of me I used to give away too quickly. The softness. The patience. The way I love fully once I feel safe. I’ve had to learn, sometimes painfully, that not everyone deserves access to that. Not because they’re bad, but because they’re not careful. And I don’t want to be explained away again. Misread. Turned into a lesson someone tells their next partner about.

So no, I don’t play hard to get. I just don’t rush into places where I’ll have to teach someone how to see me. Where I’ll end up giving too much just to feel a little bit seen. Where my softness might be misunderstood as weakness or taken as permission to offer less.

I move slow now because I know how long it takes to rebuild yourself after being handed back in pieces. I move slow because my softness is sacred, and I’ve finally learned it’s not meant to be given where it won’t be held with care.