Ugggg! The "strong Black woman" thing! I was lucky, my father shielded me from a ot of that. My mother berated me endlessly about crying too much, being too soft and even went so far as to tell me I couldn't become a lawyer because I was too small, looked too youthful and the "hairy faced white men" would eat me alive. Spoiler alert: the didn't.

But my father, who was a champion boxer in his day and was an outwardly tough guy, was a big baby. He cried over movies and cartoons. He cried over songs. He cried at my high school graduation. You get the idea. Seeing someone as strong as him sob like an infant repeatedly taught me about the strength in showing emotion. But I never showed it publicly. Still reall don't. Those who only know me professionally think I'm an ice queen when in reality, I'm a big fat pile of goo. Loved your story, thanks for playing along. :)