I sat there, trying to ignore the pain. My teeth were clenched and my eyes were glued shut as I let these women I didn’t know pull my hair into the most painful hairstyle known to man, aka cornrows. I squeezed my eyes so tight that tears streamed down my face. No matter how many times my mom asked me if I wanted to quit, however, I said no. I’d already thrown $20 away to get it done, so I figured I might as well finish it. Besides, it was 2009 after all. If I went on a cruise to Cozumel, Mexico and didn’t come back with cornrows, then who would even believe that I went on vacation at all?

Needless to say, after about half an hour of basically having my hair ripped out, my head was throbbing, but the cornrows were complete. I started down to the main beach area, which was the stereotypical vacation beach spot. As far as the eye could see, white plastic lounge chairs formed miles of rows. Seagulls squawked as they soared through the open sky. The squishy sand sank beneath my feet as I walked along the edge, where the beach met the ocean.

After being mildly traumatized by the cornrows experience, I waded into the cool, crystal clear water to refresh, ready to enjoy the beautiful day. I ventured out deeper, the crashing waves inviting me in, intending to go all the way underwater and swim around for a good while. I had only made it out about waist-deep when-

PANG!

A sharp pain bursts through my arm; a pain not too terrible, but nonetheless irritating. Unsure of what it was, I brushed it off as my body just adjusting to the  cool  water, and continue to enjoy the ocean. However, the pinches kept coming. No matter how many times I tried to ignore it, swimming can only be so fun when you’re being constantly bombarded with bee sting-like pinches. I retreated back to my family to tell my tale of the mysterious bites, but they blew me off, telling me it was probably nothing.

My family and I lay on the beach for a while, basking in the lovely December weather, glad to be here instead of back in Massachusetts where there was probably a few feet of snow.

After eating lunch, we decided to journey out to the water trampoline. I held back a little, hesitant to meet up again with whatever had been stinging me before.

As soon as I stepped into the water, the pinching and stinging returned. I screamed; the sensation was much more painful this time around. My parents glared at me, telling me to knock it off and not to scream in public like that. My attempt to explain that something in the water was clearly attacking me was shot down with “It’s probably nothing” and “you’re fine. I don’t feel or see anything in the water”. I wanted to believe that I was right and that I wasn’t imagining these stings. However, I began to think that maybe it was my imagination.

If something really was in the water, then wouldn’t everyone else feel it too? Look at all these other families having fun. Just ignore the pinches, Siobhan, and maybe they’ll stop. Just relax and enjoy your one day in Mexico.

The water trampoline was far out, so on that long journey I tried my hardest to ignore the constant stinging. I traipsed behind my family, mumbling “ow… ow… ow… ow” the whole time as the attack continued. However, it became so unbearable that before I was halfway there, I burst into tears.

“It hurts so bad!”, I whimpered as hot tears streamed down my face for the second time that day.

At this point, my family and I were stopped, standing in the middle of the water while I cried and they all stood by watching, annoyed I was keeping them from the water trampoline. My older brother tried to convince me that the heat had probably just gotten to me, so I was going crazy, and that’s why I was imagining this whole thing.

“I am NOT going crazy! And I’m not staying in the water anymore!”

Now that I was simultaneously crying and furious at my brother, my dad agreed to go back to shore with me. I hyperventilated the whole way back and moved as fast as possible to get out of the dangerous waters.

When we were finally safe at our chairs, I decided to take a look at my arms, which had taken the majority of the beating. Sure enough, my entire wrists and lower arms were covered in large red bumps that had become increasingly itchy. I shoved my arms in my dad’s face, proving to him that something real had actually attacked me in the water, but he was confused, and still claimed that he hadn’t felt anything. Either way, I sighed of relief, happy to be away from the monster. Also, as uncomfortable as the rash on my arms was, at least it proved my entire family wrong.

I lounged on the beach, resting from the upsetting day I’d endured, when a voice suddenly came on to the loud speaker that reached the entire beach and announced: “Attention everyone! Just a warning: there are JELLYFISH* in the water!”

AHA!  Although the presence of something in the water was old news to me, it definitively confirmed that I had been right all along, and I shouldn’t have listened to my family.

My family apologized for never believing me and forcing me to go out to the water trampoline and endure dozens of jellyfish stings. I forgave them, because I couldn’t blame them, I had probably looked fairly crazy to them. We spent the rest of the day just relaxing on the beach and playing on a trampoline that was on the land, but staying far away from the jellyfish-infested water.Looking back, I should have known that I wasn’t imagining anything. I didn’t want to ruin the vacation, so I just tried to ignore the problem, which ended up not being the best idea.  If something feels wrong, then it probably is wrong. Just because nobody else believes you, it doesn’t mean you’re wrong. Don’t compromise your feelings for anyone else. It’s frustrating when no one believes you that something is wrong, especially when it’s your own family, but never let them invalidate what you’re experiencing.

Lesson learned: trust your gut feeling and don’t let other people sway you feelings, because you know your own body better than anyone else. Also, beware of jellyfish in Mexico.