I remember hiding in the bathroom stall at university, after a particularly brutal critique. The one that made my stomach churn. My father would have said to just take it, don't show weakness, what are they going to think of your family. And I thought, _fuck that_, but still, I just sat there, listening to people walk past, trying to muffle the sound. I mean I don't even — whatever. It wasn’t about being "strong," it was about not letting them see me break. Still is, I guess.