Our mother told us the story of the naiad Daphne, who had vowed to remain untouched by a man but was pursued through the forest by the amorous Apollo. Daphne ran from Apollo, screaming for her father, a river god, to protect her, so he turned her into a laurel tree before Apollo could catch her. I didn’t think this was fair, that Daphne should become a tree. It was Apollo who deserved to have his greedy hands frozen into scaly branches that would never know the embrace of true love. But even at that age, I knew that it was often women who suffered the consequences of men’s actions.
