I was raised in a where and when that taught that crying was weak and baby like. You had to be strong and brave and tears solved nothing. When I was in first grade I was knocked over by a group of boys chasing through the recess yard. My nose was broken and my front teeth were knocked out. I was beaten by the nuns for crying. I will cry during a sad movie or when death takes someone close to me...but it is always behind closed doors.