poetgirl, I'm sharing in your delight at having something happy to post!
I remember when you posted about her saying she's not budging, thinking that sounded hurtful. But now she's explained it it makes perfect sense. I think it does relate to what Tree was saying about the foundations, and about a safe place. T needs to be the same, the solid safe foundation, and maybe part of that is staying still. You can approach or distance yourself, but she is always the same. I can really relate to the 'game' element she described. My T and I spent a
lot of time at the start talking about avoiding problematic contingencies- where I'd get more of her attention/care/concern if I was doing worse. When T behaves consistently, all of that is just a given, and I don't have to work out how to win it. I can imagine if T moved to sit next to me one week, and then didn't the next, I'd spend all my energy wondering what I'd done differently, wondering how to make her come back... her decision sounds very freeing, if that makes sense?
I can relate to finding it hard to draw close. In my first therapy session as an adult (not with my current T), I took off my shoes- not because I was getting comfortable(!), but as a commitment to staying in that room for an hour, however difficult.
The first time I moved closer to my current T was by accident. She had given me a photo to look at, and I felt too self conscious looking at it with her looking at me (hope this makes sense!). So I moved and sat on the floor next to her chair, so we could look at the photo together, side by side. I always sit there now, at her feet. Any closer and I'd be sitting in her lap I suppose

Sometimes it takes me the whole session, as I creep closer inch by inch. Sometimes I suddenly ask if I can move there. Sometimes I walk in and straight away throw myself down there. She's told me I'm welcome there when I clarified that I wasn't in her personal space, but she never invites me or tells me where to sit. I choose. And I always choose her.
I'm glad you drew close today, in all the ways you described