When I was a kid, everything made me cry. My feelings poured out in ways that felt like they were branding me. It was too easy, and it would last. As a young man, I didn’t love this. In my mind, my parents, my classmates, my teachers, they all saw me as “a crier.” One year, in a letter accompanying my Easter basket, the Bunny told me he thought I was a “cool dude” but that I “shouldn’t cry so much.”Embarrassing. But more than that: terrifying. In a few years, when I would be old enough to try out, how would I make it through the basketball season? I cried on the way home from games is how....…When I was a kid, everything made me cry. My feelings poured out in ways that felt like they were branding me. It was too easy, and it would last. As a young man, I didn’t love this. In my mind, my parents, my classmates, my teachers, they all saw me as “a crier.” One year, in a letter accompanying my Easter basket, the Bunny told me he thought I was a “cool dude” but that I “shouldn’t cry so much.”Embarrassing. But more than that: terrifying. In a few years, when I would be old enough to try out, how would I make it through the basketball season? I cried on the way home from games is how....WW…