If no one could manipulate you, no one could weaken you. Only weak men allowed themselves to be manipulated. Only weak men let others take control of their destinies. Weak men stood by passively and allowed those around them to plan their lives for them. He was not a weak man, he reminded himself with a grimace. He had to make sure these people knew that. Adversity and defeat had shown him a strength he never knew he had. That strength had brought along with it a determination to never, ever let anyone run his life for him ever again. He’d overcome obstacles most men who had faced them would have knuckled under to, but not him. He’d risen above those obstacles, had made them just one more reason to be in control of his own life. He just damned sure wasn’t use to have to ask anyone’s permission to do anything, either, he told himself. Not even in the Labyrinth when his every waking moment had been planned for him. Not even in the Wind Temple as a child had he ever needed to seek permission from another.
