The "handling" didn’t happen in a screaming match. It happened on a random Tuesday.

For the growth .

Real handling isn't about domination. It's about accountability wrapped in love.

Cassie had lost her keys for the fourth time that month. She was crying on the curb, mascara running down her face, saying, "I’m just a mess, Mark. I’m too much. You should just go find a boring girl."

What’s your take? Have you ever been "handled" by love, or are you still out there losing your keys? Drop it in the comments.

Since that night, Cassie hasn't changed her hair color or started wearing beige. She still wears platform heels to the grocery store. She still refers to Excel spreadsheets as "math murder."

But I want to reclaim that phrase for a second. Not for the schadenfreude. Not for the violence.