I may be a girl, and not a terribly large or hulking one, but let me assure you, I am stronger than I look. Go ahead: try to exploit me, try to manipulate me, try to charm me or guilt me or strong-arm me into doing what you want me to do. But just be aware, like I warned you in another one of my postcards, that I eat cannibals. As such, I’ll always get the last laugh from anyone who’s been trying to get the best of me. Rather, I don’t really laugh, because jerks are the farthest thing in the world from funny — unless we’re talking about cringe humor, which has never really been my thing, anyway. Dear reader, can you tell I am just coming off another insurgence of terrible men? Men who believed I was some weak little dumpling who had nothing better to do than to fan the flames of their narcissistic rantings, complete with intermittent love-bombing thrown in there to ensure my compliance. That’s the part where I casually throw my arm around their shoulders as a means to seamlessly swan-dive into a breath-extinguishing headlock, before releasing their shuddering bodies to the floor with a resounding thud. But let me tell you, too, that I only use metaphorical violence as a last resort, and only when there’s been a demonstrated violation of my honesty and integrity-based code of human conduct. Because, you see, I am also ripped-and-ready-to-rumble levels of strong in love, too. In the event I did make a connection with the kind of person who was humble, generous, consistent, and kind, I would treasure that love like the rare and precious gift that it is. And I would use my formidable strength to return it in spades, and hold it close to my heart forever. ❤️‍🔥—Y.B.D.