I learned early that looking vulnerable could protect me. I could cry on cue whenever I needed to. When I was in kindergarten, Tyler Grant, a boy from my neighborhood, stole my toys at school. I cried to every neighbor who would listen until everyone knew he was a little bully and no one wanted to play with him. In high school, a teacher spread rumors that I was secretly dating. I dropped to my knees in front of the entire school and begged her to spare me. The matter eventually reached the school district, and she was fired for mistreating students. Her whole family was suddenly left scrambling to make ends meet. After college, I joined BrightPath Learning Center and met Monica Reed, one of the parents. "Ms. Foster, honestly, you teach pretty well, but you really shouldn't keep drinking water during class. It's distracting. And every time you stop for a drink, the students have to sit there and wait. I paid for teaching, not to watch you drink water." Jenna Price, the teaching assistant beside me, barely dared to breathe. "Oh no. She's one of those parents." I sniffed once, and tears welled up almost on cue. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken a drink during class. Even though... I have a throat infection, I still shouldn't have taken a drink..." The moment I finished speaking, a group of children rushed over to defend me, including Monica's own son. 'As long as I cry first, no one gets to guilt-trip me.'

On our wedding night, I was trapped in my car by a flash flood, my life hanging in the balance, while my husband was sleeping with his stepsister. Later, I ruined his reputation and married a Mafia godfather, but he begged me to come back to him, crying.