Dana did realize that her upbringing was obviously a conservative one and although it had created a lot of problems in her life and personal happiness she understood that the conservative mentality of her parents was based mainly on accumulated insecurities. She had come up with this simple theory to give an explanation as to why she was raised in a way that made her suffer inside.

Lately she felt as a volcano ready to erupt and she was scared. She was afraid of what uncensored feelings would come out and which of them would just be vocalized and which of them she would act upon. To put it more accurately she was afraid of the day after. Would she be the harshest judge of all? Would she be utterly disgusted of what she had done, of what she was? A ….homosexual…..a ……….she could not even say the word…
“A…. lesbian” she whispered “I’m a lesbian” she repeated louder “L-E-S-B-I-A-N” she spelled the word even louder stealing glances on the mirror as she was driving “lesbian, lesbian, lesbian, lesbian, lesbianlesbianlesbianlesbian….. I’m a lesbian, I’m a lesbian, I’m a lesbian, I’m a lesbianI’malesbianI’malesbian” she continued tightly gripping the steering wheel while looking intensely on the road in front of her as the fog outside had started to become thicker. No matter how many times she would say the word it still had a negative ring to it. Sometimes it sounded like it came from a guy’s wildest fantasy and some other times from a gossip’s mouth as another word for “degenerate” or something like that. “Am I a degenerate for falling in love with my English teacher in primary school, Ms beautiful -long –blond- hair- brown -eyes Helen who smiled and my day was automatically better? Was it wrong? Did I hurt her somehow? Did I do something bad to her? I never did anything to embarrass her. Was it bad that I was happy when she was around? Was it that bad that I was happy? That was what made ME happy. Was it that bad? Who did I hurt? A.. degenerate? I was eleven years old.” She was getting frustrated by the minute but she continued talking out loud. “Am I a degenerate for falling for my new tennis instructor four years later? Oh god! How beautiful can a woman be? What a smile…. And I was her favourite student. She had said that. I felt so proud and elated that day. She always stood up for me in front of my parents. I never said anything or did anything that might embarrass her…never … I was very careful…always had my feelings in check when I was around her. But I was happy…and devastated when she left the country. I cried secretly for a month. I still use some of the moves in my playing that I copied from her. I still scratch my nose before a game for good luck just as she did. What is wrong with that? How can so much pain caused by loss of love be degenerate? She had my heart even if she didn’t know it. Just as Susan, my classmate in high school, had it later on or Josephine, the French girl, at summer camp or………Alex……”