I can still feel my heart pounding with rage as I stepped outside the bathroom and onto the cement next to the pool. “I hate my mom, I hate my mom,” I repeated over and over in fury as I crept out into the humid Georgia heat in my pathetic, ugly, one-piece. Of all the twenty-two girls at the birthday pool party, I was the only one in a one-piece because that was the rule in my household. “God says to treat our bodies as a temple and to be modest” my parents always explained to me. That reasoning always angered me because how could Jesus have been referring to bikinis in 4 BC specifically, and if it was so bad, why did everyone wear them? These questions plagued my prepubescent mind day in and day out during the summer months. It simply wasn’t fair. And there was no point in arguing with my parents over it, because to argue against their rules was to denounce God.

My mom always pressed upon me that one-piece swimsuits were “just as cute as any other kind” and in reality, they probably were. But my desire to wear the very thing I was always told to stay away from was far more tempting than any cute one-piece swimsuit I encountered as a little girl. Modesty felt drab, boring, and simply constricting; where was the fun and the freedom? It didn’t seem all that bad to me and frankly, I wanted to be a little show-off and strut around in my bikini. I wanted to be like a mermaid. 

Now in my mother’s defense, she was not about to sexualize her child or parade me around. But the point is that I was never granted that freedom of bodily expression as a child or as I matured into an adult. It wasn’t until I began speaking up, or simply breaking the rules, that I got to wear a bikini or a top that was deemed “too revealing” by my parents. My parents thought I was seeking some sort of male validation by doing so, but in reality, all I wanted was to dress the way that made me feel good about myself. In their minds, dressing “promiscuously” equated to a low sense of spiritual worth.

Frankly, I think it was the sensual nature of mermaids that really drew me to them as a kid- not necessarily out of any sexual desire but because my curiosity was piqued; these beautiful, mythical creatures were practically nude and yet, were perceived as graceful and strong. For their underwater environment, their lack of concealment was normal. As someone who had ideas of modesty and purity so heavily pressed upon them, I couldn’t help but be enchanted by this freedom they possessed. 

In a lot of ways, I identified with mermaids. While they have these iridescent, scaly tails for legs, they also possess the upper body of a woman; a strange blend of species. And while I never got to lounge in the warm sun for hours bare-chested and brushing my long, silky hair, I too felt trapped and confined by the realm in which I belonged.  I became fixated on this idea of escapism I found within the mythology of mermaids. They were similar enough to me to feel relatable but different enough that I could envy the lifestyle and liberties they obtained and moreover, spend hours fantasizing about a life spent as one. It was always so funny to me that these girls wanted to escape to the shore because everything seemed so much more beguiling underwater.

“The Little Mermaid” remains one of the most influential and mesmerizing pieces of fantastical media from my childhood. I was absolutely bewitched by Ariel’s underwater trials of growing up and navigating love and family. She had heart, spunk, and this kind of autonomy I never could quite recognize how much I desired until years later. It wasn’t merely her supernatural mermaid abilities, but the ease and carefree nature with which she carried herself as a practically topless woman. That may sound silly and bizarre for a child’s impactful moment, but that carried a lot of gravity for me and still does. I so distinctly remember dressing up as Ariel for Halloween, only to get a more “modest” costume option from my mother.

Mermaids have such a strong grasp over pop culture because while they are sensual, majestic creatures, they are equally formidable. In their original form, they were known as sirens throughout Greek mythology who lured sailors to their death with their captivating looks and melodious voices. This paradox of sexually desirable and lethally persuasive is so fascinating, particularly because they are women. Women are generally depicted as weak, docile individuals throughout Western literature but mermaids are one of the few exceptions. For thousands of years, they have been reported to be these tempting figures of death and destruction disguised by their sexual prowess and beauty. I think witnessing that as I watched “The Little Mermaid” and read The Iliad as a child was a source of inspiration for me. Obviously, I have no intention of luring men to their doomed fate, but I think to see women portrayed as fearsome and desirable was oddly empowering. It was such a different narrative from the ones I was used to seeing in my majority Christian community. 

Even though mermaids are mere fiction and nothing more than a popular literary element of the fantasy genre, they have more power than we’d likely credit them for. Their mysterious, split nature presents us with a kind of woman far more multifaceted than the ones we are accustomed to in our patriarchal society. For a little girl who always felt stuck in her one-piece bathing suit world, the enigma of a mermaid promised a kind of unshackled womanhood that awaited me and perhaps, made it easier to stick it out in those years of stifled modesty.