Pursuit and Wooing

A hopeless flirt's meditation on timing, chemistry, and the slow burn.

Let’s talk about pursuit. The ardent kind. The kind where he knows what he wants and isn’t shy about it. It can be thrilling, in a cinematic sort of way. There’s intensity, decisiveness, action. And sometimes, yes—it works.

But pursuit isn’t the same as wooing.

Wooing is a slower, more mysterious art. It doesn’t announce itself so loudly. It doesn’t need to. Where pursuit charges forward, wooing lingers. Listens. Learns the rhythm of the room, the pauses in your sentences, the glances you didn’t mean to give away. It builds something.

That, to me, is the difference.

To be pursued is to be seen as a destination. To be wooed is to be invited into a story.

And for many women—myself included—desire rarely arrives all at once. It flickers to life through moments, through emotion. Through feeling understood, then seen, then chosen. It’s the slow burn. A glance that becomes a memory. A laugh that keeps replaying. The way he looked at you when you weren’t even trying. It’s built over time, until one day it catches fire and you realize—oh, this is what I wanted all along.

Now, we all know the archetypal version of wooing: Flowers at the door. An endless series of romcom gestures. Jewelry wrapped in a black box.

And sure—those things can be lovely. But they’re not the point. Wooing doesn’t require grand gestures or expensive plans. It requires presence. Thoughtfulness. A sense of attunement that says, I noticed this small thing you loved, so I held onto it for you.

Sometimes it's breakfast in bed.

Or dancing to Feel in the living room, because moving to Post's rhythm is intoxicating.

Other times, it's a piece of sap.

Picked up on a trail.

Returned quietly, without fanfare.

Because he wanted it to matter.

For men? I can’t say with certainty—I’ve never been one. But from what I’ve witnessed, desire often strikes like lightning. Swift. Singular. Obvious. And beautiful in its own right. There’s something honest in that instinct. Something unfiltered. But the rhythm is different.

And that difference matters.

Because while pursuit might impress, wooing is what makes us soften.

What makes us stay.

What makes us want to build a fire of our own.

So if you ask me, the key isn’t to chase harder—it’s to pay attention.

To create moments worth remembering.

To write a story together that neither of you wants to skip ahead in.

Because in the end, it’s not about how fast you can catch her. It’s about whether she wants to be caught by you—and whether you’ve taken the time to earn that yes.