Two Day Magazine

Not a beach ornament, but rather a mermaid in disguise...

I write about 'it', I talk about 'it' on TV, radio, and the internet.  I’ve given interviews about 'it'. 'It' is even in one of the chapters of my book.

The ‘it’ I’m talking about is loving yourself the way you are, loving your body and looks, as well as being proud of your unique self and  accomplishments.  

I thought I was the poster girl for 'it'.

Sigh, but I’m not, nope.

I still have rare moments when I suffer from GOTB Syndrome, a hidden  malady that can gnaw away at my self-esteem.

Don’t run to Goggle the GOTB Syndrome. You won’t find it on WebMD, Psychology Today, or any other place. Your doctor or therapist doesn’t know what it is either. GOTB Syndrome is a condition I made up to explain a certain lack of self-esteem that I first encountered in my teen years.

GOTB stands for GirlsOnTheBeach; the ones who never go into the water, the beach bunnies who prize hair, make-up, and a smokin’ hot, well-oiled body over actually enjoying the sweet lure of salt water rushing over their skin.

The only part of their bodies that they will permit to get wet is their toes as they walk through the surf looking bikini-fabulous and attracting the attention they justly deserve for being perfect.

Yup, GOTB Syndrome was a problem for me, and though I’ve gotten much better as I’ve gotten older, this syndrome occasionally returns to hit me when I least expect it.

For instance…

I’m getting a manicure when all of a sudden I am struck by GOTB. Omigod! GirlsOnTheBeach! Here? One of them is sitting two stations away from me. She is made up to perfection including perfectly placed false eyelashes, perfectly coiffed hair, evenly tanned, and getting French manicure gel placed expertly on her long nails.

Her jewelry gleaming in the lights, she tells the woman doing her nails that she’s going to Aruba tomorrow to relax. When her nail tech makes small talk and asks her if she is going to snorkel in the beautiful Caribbean, the solitary GOTB looks surprised at the question and then says,

“Oh God no.  That would ruin my hair and swimsuit. I don’t want that water rat look. I just lie on the beach.”

For one brief minute, my breathing quickens as I glance into the mirror behind my own nail tech, Jenny, and instead of seeing the adult I am now, I see a water rat teenage girl with eyes red-rimmed from a day of swimming, prune-y hands and feet, a bikini stained with salt, and hair the texture of seaweed.

I had perfected the “water rat” look so assiduously avoided by the GOTB.

Thankfully, the moment passed, and I laughed at myself for remembering.

My teen summers were beach summers and I loved being in the water. Despite having a pretty good bikini body myself due, in part, to playing tennis, I was never a member of the unique sorority of girls who sought out the beach as a means of meeting boys.

And, while the boys they were looking to attract swam with me, dove with me, and generally joked around with me in the water, when it came time to hang out on the beach or go get lunch, they weren’t about to choose a water rat.

They were looking for highly adorned beauty untouched by rough waves. They wanted someone who smelled of coconut tanning oil and not the sea; a girl who looked ready to go out and party, not someone who obviously needed to go home to shower and shampoo.

Those girls made me feel inferior. (My husband laughs when I tell him this and says, "You? Feel inferior? Oh, come on now!").

It's true, though, that's how I felt. But, as much as I longed to do so there was something in my nature that rebelled against becoming one of the GOTB. I could so easily have done it; what would it have taken?

Hair, nails, make-up and no water, that's what. The problem was I simply didn't want to give up the ocean. So I swam, I snorkeled, I scuba-ed, and kept looking like a water rat. It's no surprise that I was pretty much dateless on the beach.

Dateless, that is,  until I met a certain cute boy named, Alan, who not only swam with me in the surf but actually stayed with me on the beach, took me out at night, said he loved my "surfer girl" look and rented the movie The Deep for us to watch.

In that movie Jacqueline Bisset's character practically lived in the ocean. Her saltwater mermaid, water look did a lot for me. She made being a water rat look sexy. Who knew water rats were hot? Certainly not me.

The sad thing is that we all want to be a part of the group that we think is perfect, the group who, we erroneously see as the ones who have the dates, the limelight, the acceptance.

Why don't we see our own value as an individual?

As the years went on, my self-esteem grew as I did learn to value myself for my intelligence, my creative skills, and my own unique look. During college, I no longer cared about looking as perfect as the GOTB.

I was having fun and doing what I wanted to do. I actually thought the girls who do nothing but lie on the beach afraid of getting wet were rather silly. They were just there as ornaments and nothing more.

What fun is that?

GOTB Syndrome will probably sneak around a corner to ambush me every once in awhile. That's being human and that's normal. I can live with that.

But, listen, if GOTB or any other personally named syndrome comes around and makes you feel less than the perfect person you are, try to remember what I had to learn: your perfection lies within your unique self.

No one else is, or can be, you. You are perfect for you.

By the way, the water rat look I wear all summer long has gotten a new name. Stylists now call it the "beach-y" look and magazines even tell you how to "achieve this gorgeous look."

My own beach-y blonde, water-rat hair is finally in vogue.

That's progress.

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© 2011 Copyright Kristen Houghton

Kristen Houghton is a Lifestyle writer and the author of the book ranked in the top-selling 100 book of 2011: And Then I'll Be Happy! Stop Sabotaging Your Happiness and Put Your Own Life First

*Kristen is in the process of editing her new book on humor in relationships, due soon.*