I didn’t pause.

Didn’t ask.

Didn’t check if I even wanted to.

I started steering.

That’s what I do.

I take the wheel.

Even when the map isn’t mine.

Even when the pace is wrong.

Even when I’m tired.

If I don’t, who will?

Will they do it right?

If I say no, who fills the space?

If I let go, what happens to my delusion of control?

They said, ‘I don’t need you to solve this.’

I heard what they said.

I understood their words.

I disagreed with their approach.

Or at least my actions did.

I heard myself solving it anyway.

Not that I thought they needed me to.

Not that I wanted to.

In that moment, I didn’t know

how not to.

How not to solve.

How not to feel.

How not to speak.

That’s the part that’s hardest to name.

When responsibility isn’t asked for

I take it anyway.

I get agency confused with control.

With my effort.

With my output.

With being the one who always does.

With what I have always done.

Intentional agency starts later,

after I ask:

What direction do I want to take here?

What direction am I willing to follow now?

Agency is my answer whether I ask myself or not.

Intentional agency waits for an indicated answer.