Oh, isn’t this one so sweet and tender? I originally made it for a guy I’d been obsessed with, on-and-off, for about eight years. Then we had a parting of the ways that involved repeated use of the phrase, you little rat. And yet, I am full of hope for the future.
I’m not a real doctor… I just play one in the hokey ‘80s sitcom that is my imagination. And if you could hear him speak (he looks a lot like Richard Mulligan on Empty Nest), he would say something no less hokey than a love letter a day keeps the doctor away! *holds up pointer finger and grins madly for effect; awkward giggles erupt from the live studio audience*
There’s a lot of women who tend to wander into the YBD pop-up shop looking for cards to send their friends. So I dutifully go around and pick out all the postcards that use the word “friend” in the text. So far nobody’s taken me up on this one. I mean, I know it’s a little racy, but c’mon… it’s all just a metaphor for juicy girl talk.
If you’re anything like me, your mind should come with a Hazmat suit and enough danger warnings to populate a Superfund site. Not that the warnings would be all that necessary; my paranoia and distorted thinking are like wall-to-wall barbed-wire fencing, preventing anyone new from getting in, anyway. What a shame about all the poor souls who are still stuck in there… my bad!
At first, the Postcard Club was going to be a subscription service where I sent members five new Burning Desire postcards every month. But now I’m thinking it would be a lot more fun if we had a mailing list of all the members (none of whom knew each other), and every month the members could send an anonymous postcard to one another with a little story about how that postcard makes them feel. Would you join?
I’m a water sign, so naturally I love to swim… aaaaand I feel my feelings very deeply. But even if you’re a steady, grounded Earth sign who prefers ice hockey to swimming (I’m looking at you, Taurus!), I can assure you that True Love’s waters are indeed as warm and gentle as the aqua aerobics pool at your local Senior Center.
What does it take to “take True Love very, very seriously?” Well, first of all, you need four good tires, a bottle of Black Opium eau de parfum, and some breathable fabric underwear. I’m just kidding: you just need to listen to your heart with rigorous discipline.
Oh baby girl. You don’t have to look at me all misty-eyed and put your arm around my shoulder. Trust me, I’m used to being a deeply sad individual. You might even say it’s part of my identity, at this point. And what do we have, if not ourselves, to hold onto in this cold, cruel world? Might as well embrace the sad, so it doesn’t seem quite so sad.
In theory, you could send this postcard to literally anyone. That is, if you believe (as YBD does) that we all have a heart of gold, buried beneath our layers of deep resentment, protective defense mechanisms, and the phony old masks we wear for the sake of trying to get people to “believe” we are “good” in the “right” ways. Strip that shit away, and you’ll find peace of mind to spare. Simple!
I remember a few weeks back there was a young woman who came by the YBD pop-up shop, looked around at all the postcards for about ten minutes, and came up with one perfect sentiment that resonated with her: EAT MY SHORTS. People, this is why I do what I do, and I’m happy to provide such a service to the community.
Everybody who’s anybody has seen Fight Club, but you’d be amazed at how many moviegoers completely missed the point. It wasn’t Brad Pitt’s washboard abs, and it wasn’t Edward Norton’s hopelessly deadpan delivery of lines like I am Jack’s raging bile duct. No, the point of Fight Club came down to this line, and this line alone. #truth
This quote isn’t a YBD original, but it should be. You might be surprised by how many folks seem completely baffled by the irreverence of YBD postcards. But really, what’s to explain? They’re sometimes sweet, sometimes salty, and always drop-dead gorgeous!
I’ve been waiting and waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell somebody I sat through ten thousand A.A. meetings, so you don’t have to. I mean, you should still go to meetings yourself, if you’ve got a problem. But even if you never do, at least now you’ll get the benefit of this precious nugget of wisdom, a clever 12-Step acronym for FEAR. Anything less is just fuck everything and run.
There’s a nice way and a not-so-nice way of saying fuck you. This is one of the nicer variations, I think. It communicates something along the lines of, gee, you should really look into getting fucked soon, because you kinda need it, buddy. Like, in the best possible way. Does that make sense?
Sometimes, there’s just no good way to say it. You can try to dress it up in politeness, with the utmost sensitivity to the other person’s feelings. But at the end of the day, you should probably just admit it, and say it plainly. Or, y’know, you could send them a postcard to break the news. Just don’t go overboard and sign it “xoxo.”
There’s nothing like coming home from a party in your best clothes and realizing you just wasted the last six hours trying to impress a bunch of people you don’t truly give a fuck about… instead of, let’s say, running through a fountain in your bare feet, carrying a bunch of balloons that you let fly in a grand flourish. Try to look at the glass as half full, and you’ll be halfway to True Love already.
It’s funny that most people remember Brad Pitt being the hottest part of Fight Club, because I would beg to differ. Edward Norton’s character (AKA “the narrator”) is at his most fantastically attractive when he lets himself be vulnerable enough to admit heartbreak. A black eye and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth complete the look.
Rejection is the worst. Your first reaction is probably like, what’s wrong with me that he/she/they rejected me? But I would urge you to do a few things before you give up on life. Step 1: apply an ice pack, like you would to any other swollen or inflamed part of the body. Step 2: get a hobby you can devote thousands of hours into, to forget about the rejection. Step 3: find an inanimate object to “reject,” so you can pretend like the score is settled. We all good now?
I love that this card has sold consistently well at YBD’s pop-up shop this summer. Now, I know most people just want to check out quickly and move on to the sourdough bread tent, but if I were more outgoing I’d say something while bagging their cards like, ohhhh it makes me so happy that you chose this card in the name of self-love, honey.
I feel like this is the card that makes little old ladies hightail it out of the YBD pop-up shop. I mean, either that, or they absolutely love it (as long as they’re a progressive kind of little old lady). Either way, this is a card to be adored… worshipped… and worthy of bringing the heads of goats to, in tribute.
What a relief, to be not only done with a relationship that drains you or drowns you, but to feel totally decisive about the fact that it’s over. Yes, this is your life, honey, and you get to say who you do and don’t want to be around! I mean, you could even pretend it’s true of the terrible coworker you leave behind on Friday night, “never to return” (until Monday morning, that is). Because some shit you just can’t control, unfortunately.
A Burning Desire is not so much “chosen” as it is fated… to be yours, and yours alone. They say there’s a lid for every pot, and man oh man, do I hope that’s true. Otherwise my own personal Burning Desire could come to a rolling boil, if left unattended (and unfulfilled) for too long. Yeah, the kind that overflows the pot and leaves nasty white marks on the stove.
It’s okay to get excited. It’s okay to feel shy. And it’s totally okay to feel so excited and shy that you’re simultaneously terrified and thrilled at the prospect of running into your crush at, say, Costco or Target on an unassuming Tuesday afternoon. Or, y’know, you could just shoot them a text asking them to come over?
For whatever reason, teenagers and young adults seem especially amused by this postcard. Is it because they’re high, as they giggle and call their similarly stoned friends over to look at it? Or am I the only one who’s obsessed with the getting high/being high distinction, now that I’m clean?
Let’s get one thing straight: all good therapy is really meant to be a facsimile of love, anyway. The unconditional acceptance… the positive encouragement… and the power of a consistently supportive and collaborative relationship to provide the nervous system reset that leads to greater peace of mind and self-efficacy. True Love: now taking appointments!
Sometimes, the world feels very heavy on your shoulders. Sometimes, even having great hair doesn’t seem to help your chances of success. And sometimes, you just have to take a long ride on a subway car going nowhere and take a look at all the other lost souls who are your travel companions in this life, for better or worse. I see your burden, and I salute your efforts, comrade.
A brand new life isn’t about moving to an ashram in India so you can sit cross-legged and meditate all day. And a brand new life isn’t running away with the girl next door, so she can fill all the dark holes in your lonely soul. No, a brand new life is available to you, right where you are, starting today. The first step is just to close your eyes and visualize something better.
Yes, you do. (Need love, that is.) So how about we stop looking for it in another pill, another toy, or another poor unsuspecting person to project all our fantasies onto? Real love is about understanding and acceptance. An easy enough way to start could be grabbing a warm, fuzzy blanket and a sweet house pet to cuddle up with.
You know where repression works well? Church. And, board rooms. Nobody wants to get emotional while they’re pretending to resonate with the supposedly inspirational words of some two-bit hypocrite up on the pulpit, or when a $2 million deal is on the line, and you’re just trying to give your investors your best ball-point pen without your hands shaking too much. Otherwise, please don’t repress yourself; it’s bad for your digestion. (And, your complexion.)
As a therapist, I’m supposed to check for suicidal thoughts in everyone I work with. But what I want to know is, what about homicidal thoughts? Because I’m willing to bet that most people would rather take out their annoying neighbor, or that overbearing coworker, or that ex who just won’t quit, than harm themselves. Let’s be real, here.
There are some people who are totally transparent about their desire to date a certain person, For example, texting them at all hours of the day with check-ins like “what’s up?” or “can I come over tonight?” As the shy type, however, I prefer to cast voodoo postcard spells on the object of my affection, instead. Optional: write your “I want you” note in your own blood for dramatic flair…. it just might work.
It would be nice if a bunch of highly ethical, solidly financed Wall Street investors descended upon my home tomorrow, all wanting to invest $5 million into Your Burning Desire Productions, LLC, based on the commercially viable humor and good taste displayed in my postcards. But short of that? I’ll just have to keep plugging away at my own dreams, building my own humble but totally serious empire, brick by brick.
I was sick to death of the idea of a guy coming over just to screw me and leave 45 minutes later. But when you’re broke, you can’t exactly invite them to go out to eat at a restaurant you can’t afford. So you know what I did? I started inviting this one guy over for conversation and sorbet instead.
I’d like to treat you so well that you never feel hurt, longing, or the dull aching of loneliness ever again. But I can’t be in your life like that, so I’ll do the next best thing: create a line of postcards that could be the inspiration that puts you on the road to your own truest fulfillment. After all, you deserve it, my love.
Just because I say I’ll always be waiting for True Love doesn’t mean I’m sitting by the phone, waiting for my ex-boyfriend to miraculously text me to say he wants a relationship with me again. Actually, I’ve renounced romantic relationships entirely, which leaves me with all the True Love in the Universe to pour into my kids, my home, and my art. True Love comes in many forms, but the effect is always the same: it feels miraculous.
One of the sweetest moments at the YBD pop-up shop this summer was when my lovely friend Robin’s husband inquired if I could make this card into a version for men. Why doesn’t this version apply to men? was what Robin wanted to know. But I said, I got you, buddy. The following week I brought him a draft, in pocket card form, which he seemed to like. So look out for the Tony Soprano version in postcard form, soon.
Sometimes people take I’ll pray for you as a diss, but I really do mean it sincerely. I want the absolute best for you, baby. I’ll pray for your continued success at work. For your daughter to make you proud. I hope your baby mama settled down, and you enjoy daily serenity and peace of mind. Because maybe if you could truly feel good about yourself, you’d want to share that good with someone else, someday.
I get a lot of questions about what the “best kind of obscene phone call” would be like. But the truth is, that’s a highly personal question. Like I might really enjoy an obscene phone call where i was told to take off all my clothes, get in bed, and go directly to sleep. But you might like the kind where there was some actual human interaction. Up to you.
You can start this journey anytime you damn well please. As a matter of fact, perusing YBD’s postcard shop is a great place to start. All you have to do is let yourself look at all the cards and find the one that suits you best, right here, right now. Look deep into the eyes of the model on the card, then close your own eyes and wait. A feeling will come to you; chances are, it’s the first feeling of the rest of your life.
Is it weird that I still think about you every day, three years after we broke up? Is it strange that I still look for you, around the corner of every aisle at Costco? Is there anything wrong with considering you to be my primary romantic muse? Oh, okay. Never mind… I was just asking for a friend.
The old wisdom for sober addicts is “one day at a time,” but my own personal motto is “one breath at a time.” Not only does increased oxygen to the brain turn the volume down on junkie cravings, but it’s been well documented that long, slow, deep-ass breaths can actually get you high.
The postcard that started it all — this Universe of True Love, this strange little candy-colored ministry of positive encouragement! Let me tell you, there are a lot of people out there walking around with undiagnosed lovelessness. They suffer from depression, anxiety, and a host of other ailments — the most insidious, of course, being self-doubt. Love is the cure.
Here’s a card that’s “ripped from the headlines” of my love life. Or is it yours? At any rate, feeling terminally frustrated is not a good look on anyone. So maybe a hard reset on that stale-ass relationship is just what the (love) doctor ordered.
Some people just don’t know how to have fun. Like instead of grabbing me around the waist and kissing me passionately in the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant, they’ll tell me sternly, “I don’t do PDA.” God help you if you can’t enjoy the affections of a pretty girl to the max, people.
It seems like everybody has some form of depression or anxiety these days. Even absent a mental health issue, life can be full of problems and responsibilities we dread. In which case, it’s time to throw caution to the wind and hitch your sails to the most reckless friend you have. Like the one who wears Hawaiian shirts in February. The one who’s got the speedboat.
I have a green velvet ottoman in my therapy office that helps me relax and feel comfortable when I’m listening to a patient describe their depression or their trauma. And when I’m comfortable, the vibes of comfort and security get transmitted back to my patient. Just another way everybody wins, with True Love.
Lots of people complain about not having enough time in the day. Well, I’ll tell you a really straightforward way to streamline your schedule: give up on love entirely. No more odious “communication” required. No more time sucked into visiting in-laws, or going to see movies you wouldn’t have chosen yourself. Plus, you can relax your hygiene routine.
The other day I found myself asking AI, “what happens when two alpha females have to spend time together?” (Answer: either it’s a total disaster, or they join forces to form a superpower.) But that’s a boring answer. I want the kind of outcome in which I storm into the scene and completely upstage the existing alpha princess, to the delight of the crowds that have gathered.
Denying yourself takes many forms. It could mean that you don’t acknowledge how you really feel about things. It could mean you hold yourself back from enjoying life’s simple pleasures. But it usually means that your inner monologue is full of self-doubt. Sad, right? It doesn’t have to be that way.
“They” say there are five major love languages: physical touch; words of affirmation; quality time together; gifts; and acts of service. I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest another one: POSTCARDS. Whether they feature a picture of a quaint sailboat, the Miami city skyline, or an early-’80s shot of Kim Alexis modeling nail polish, it is the firm opinion of YBD that postcards will indeed save the Universe. And maybe, your relationship?
Once upon a time, there was a band called Depeche Mode that sold out countless stadium shows, performing nothing less than the very soundtrack of my soul. Martin Gore, the keyboardist, wrote all the music, and was a fantastically attractive person who refused to call any attention to himself. That is, except when he wore black leather dominatrix gear, and sang lead on “I Want You Now,” “Somebody,” and “The Things You Said.” I don’t know about Dave Gahan, but Martin ended up living happily ever after.
I have nothing personally against Etsy, besides the double-sided gang rape of a) high fees; and b) the way they force sellers into these nauseating cookie-cutter virtual display boxes. But I do have a bone to pick with every so-called “artist” who need only turn to AI to “generate” some dumb shit to sell.
Don’t you just love how your ex tries to front like he didn’t do anything wrong to bust up the relationship? Like seriously, it’s all my fault? You have got to be fucking kidding me, bro. That’s why this postcard comes with a heavy side of sarcasm, extra salt. And some vinegar, for good measure. BRO…
There are some people who say there is no such thing as bad art. Are you for real? Because bad art is completely relative. I happen to think my postcards are better than a lot of the “modern” art that clutters today’s museums, but what do I know? Truth be told, there were millions of people who absolutely hated Warhol, too. I think the only solution is to give artists like me some money, so I just go away quietly.
Every person is full of a million stories. There are the stories we tell our families, the stories we tell our coworkers, and even the stories we tell our therapist. Having said that, most of our stories (if you’ll excuse my French) are bullshit lies — they’re constructed out of pride, ego, or a downright desperate need for approval. Only our love stories are true stories, because a real love story comes from your very true heart.
A young woman stopped by the YBD pop-up shop recently and laughed when she read the text on this card out loud. To which I responded… maybe! I mean, it’s been true in my own experience. But if you’re still stuck on your narcissistic ex, you probably won’t see the lovely, caring guy right in front of you.
They say that the secret to a great life is to keep an open mind and a humble heart. I’d agree, up to a certain point. In my experience, that point is about age 46 (at least, for women). It’s right around then that you realize you’ve been right about pretty much everything.
They say that the best stories in movies or TV are the ones that come to a “surprising but inevitable” conclusion — no matter if the ending is a happy or sad one. I think that wisdom applies when we realize the truth about our own selves, too. At first it’s like “oh shit, no way!” But sooner or later you’re just like, “yeah, that totally makes sense.” (*shrug*)
Instead of treating yo’self with relentless criticism and self-doubt, how about trying something new? Treat yo’self with kindness. Treat yo’self with respect for your own limits. And treat yo’self with the kind of love and affection that will have people wondering what your secret is. (Spoiler: self-love.)
Pharmaceutical companies would have us believe that the right drug has the power to change your life. But I’ll have you know that True Love has zero side effects — no nausea, no suicidal thoughts, and no night sweats required. Just a deeply secure sense of inner calm is what you’re left with, after True Love has had its way with your body, mind, and soul.
I’ll never forget the lady who charged into the YBD pop-up shop and immediately zeroed in on this card. She was the mother of the bride in an upcoming wedding, and she told me she wished she could have had this design on the invitations. For the record, YBD is ready and willing to do commissions for weddings, funerals, commitment ceremonies, even divorce parties, if need be.
I have every reason in the Universe to believe I’ll never see you again. Like maybe you really did move to California for work. Or maybe you really did give up on me, that day in May I left your stuff on your front stoop. But the idea of you lives on in my mind, that perfect and natural love; the love I’ll never be able to resist. I see you. LMK when you’re ready.
It’s like trying to explain water to a fish. There’s so much of it around him, he just takes it for granted and doesn’t even identify it as a “thing.” It’s just… there. So when I say True Love is everywhere, it’s a much simpler statement than you might think. True Love is in that tree over there. It’s in the kid playing on the playground. And it’s exactly what you’re made of, should you choose to see it as such.
Please note that I didn’t say that the people you love are always patient, generous, affectionate, and kind. I said True Love is. Big difference! Your current/former flames were deeply human (and probably, deeply flawed). But True Love is always there for you, should you choose to devote your affections to it.
There’s a Joe Jackson song called “You Can’t Get What You Want (Till You Know What You Want).” To that wisdom, I would add that you need only take some time and space to visualize something better than the crap-ass slop you’ve been eating for years. So go ahead: close your eyes. And instead of going down a dark spiral of worry, let yourself go down the rabbit hole of True Love.
Welcome to My Universe of True Love… a playground where even the darkest expressions of human emotion are tied up in a pretty, funny bow! This was a milestone “coming out” postcard for Your Burning Desire, as it was created to be used as the headline image for a canvas banner that was hung in the very first YBD pop-up shop, the summer of 2026. ❤️🔥
Some days you just don’t want to be smiled at, said hello to, or even looked at the wrong way. And let me clarify: there is no “right way,” either. But an acquaintance coming in cold with, hey, how’s your depression coming along today? Now that’s a heart-warming-kinda conversation starter.
“You Can Get So Fucked” is iconic Your Burning Desire! There are two variations on this card: 1985-era Madonna, as well as Breakfast Club-era Judd Nelson (or should I say John Bender?). This design has been the most popular, by a long shot, in YBD’s first season of retail operation. ❤️🔥
We all know that prostitution is illegal in the United States, but what about a rent-a-friend program? You could sign up with an agency to match you with a compatible companion for an afternoon of tennis, let’s say, or a trip to the museum. There would be strictly enforced limits, of course, but the premise would be no different from therapy, or hiring someone for home health care. Does it even matter that they’d only be pretending to like you?
It was a few years into my independent study on all things True Love that I came across this bit of wisdom: love wants to express itself. Sure, love is a powerful emotion, and like all powerful emotions, it wants to be known and understood and recognized in the eyes of another. But in an even more basic sense? Love wants the freedom to live and exist exactly as it is.
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