People often ask why I don’t meet in person right away. Why, even after a connection starts flowing and the conversation seems great, I don’t just grab coffee or dive into the deep end like everyone else seems to. From the outside, it might look like hesitation—or like I’m playing it cool, stalling, or keeping one foot out the door. But that’s not it. At all.

The truth is, “going with the vibe” doesn’t work for how I move through the world. I’m neurodivergent. I have AuDHD. And connection—for me—isn’t just about chemistry. It’s about regulation. If I dive in too fast, especially when my dopamine is high and everything feels exciting, I end up making choices that my nervous system can’t actually sustain. That doesn’t create safety. It creates spirals.

So I built something better. I call it the Rule of Six.

It’s not a game. It’s not a test. It’s definitely not a way to make someone “prove” anything. What it is… is subtle. Quietly protective. And designed with care for how my brain works.

Here’s how it goes: over time, naturally within conversation, I ask six ordinary, seemingly harmless questions. Nothing intense. Nothing obviously meaningful. Most people don’t even realize they’re part of a pattern. But the way someone answers them tells me things—not about their intelligence or interests, but about how they process the world. How they handle small moments. How they speak with intention (or don’t).

And to be clear, these questions are vanilla. Like, basic get-to-know-you stuff. The kind of things you’d talk about whether you’re chatting with a coworker, making a new friend, or just vibing with someone at a bus stop. They’re not traps. They’re not heavy. But they tell me what I need to know about how someone thinks, and more importantly—how they treat the tiny pieces of connection when it’s still easy.

If they answer even one in a way that hits in that “safe, resonant, aligned” place—I know. It tells me something clicks. That’s it. Just one. That’s all it takes for me to feel like the foundation exists to take the next step and meet in person (always in a safe, agreed-upon space). But if all six land sideways—if none of it sits right—I don’t say anything. I don’t correct them. I just let the connection drift. Quietly. Peacefully.

Because the Rule of Six isn’t there to punish anyone. It’s not about “getting it right.” It’s about giving me time. Enough space to see someone clearly, without the haze of infatuation or dopamine-colored projection. It’s my slow-down switch. A way to step out of my head long enough to figure out if what I’m feeling is real—or just compelling chemistry that won’t hold up under pressure.

Some people think I’m using this as a delay tactic. That I’m dragging things out like so many people do when they’re playing games or hedging their bets. And I get why it reads that way. We’ve all dealt with people who disappear after talking for weeks. We’ve all been led on by someone who kept dragging things out because they didn’t want to be honest. So now, when someone like me says, “Hey, I want to wait a bit longer,” it gets misunderstood.

But that’s not what this is. This isn’t hesitation. This is care. This is me doing the work to keep both of us safe.

When I’m in the early stages of connection, my brain floods with dopamine. It feels exciting and familiar and electric. But for me, that excitement can easily override my ability to assess compatibility or spot red flags. I’ve learned the hard way that what I feel isn’t always a reliable indicator of what’s good for me.

So I slow down. I stay in the text phase. I observe. And I use the Rule of Six not to trick or test—but to hold space for the truth of who someone is to surface. Without pressure. Without performance. Without them even needing to know it’s happening.

And it works. It’s helped me build calmer, more stable connections. It’s helped me stay regulated instead of overloaded. It’s helped me stop confusing intensity with intimacy.

But it’s not just the Rule of Six that’s misunderstood—it’s me. How I communicate. How I connect. How I love.

When I get comfortable with someone, I share a lot. I’ll tell you things that are raw, vulnerable, personal. And I’ll do it sooner than most people might expect. That’s not oversharing by accident—it’s on purpose. If I’m opening up to you, it’s not a red flag. It’s a sign I trust you. That I see something in you I want to invest in.

Neurodivergence means I don’t really do small talk. It feels awkward. It burns energy without building anything. I’d rather tell you something real than ask how your weekend was. So when I share deeply—especially about things like trauma or emotional patterns—it’s not to shock you or dump baggage. It’s because I’m trying to build an honest foundation.

Especially in kink, that honesty is vital. I want my partners to know what they’re walking into with me—what helps, what hurts, what shuts me down. That level of emotional context is safety. If I don’t tell you what I need, how can you show up in a way that keeps me regulated and grounded? And if I’m asking for your honesty in return, it’s not about control—it’s about building something real.

And look, I know not everyone gets it. Some people are put off by slowness or intensity or nonlinear communication. And that’s okay. I’m not trying to be for everyone. But the people who do get it—the ones who recognize that the Rule of Six isn’t about being guarded but about being ready—those are the people I want in my corner.

Because I’ve spent too much time rushing, hoping, trusting on autopilot. I’ve made myself small or quiet or casual to make others more comfortable. And I’m just not doing that anymore.

Now, I move at my pace. I stay soft and deep and weird and open—but I give myself the structure to be safe inside of that. I’m building relationships that don’t rely on guessing games or scripted timelines. I’m building from truth, curiosity, reflection—and sometimes, yeah, from six quiet little questions that carry a lot more weight than they seem to.

And if you ever wonder why I don’t meet you right away—just know it’s because I care. And I’m giving this connection the best possible chance to become something that actually works. Oh and if you have been given the link to this post, it means someone feels the same. Let’s be safe in all things.