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Self-Control

Impulsivity and "The Little Mermaid Syndrome"

Be careful of trusting too much, too soon, in matters of the heart.

If you've seen the Disney movie The Little Mermaid, you may recall the scene depicting Ariel's experience of love at first sight—in fact, we might just call it “the Little Mermaid Syndrome.” Already primed by unrealistic fantasies about how the other half lives, she pops up on the deck of a ship and sees the dashing Prince Eric cavorting with his salty dog. Shortly thereafter, Ariel rescues Eric from certain death by sea storm and gazes at him while he sleeps, entranced by his chiseled cheekbones.

In the Disney book version of the story, the script reads, “Oh, he’s so beautiful! At that moment, Ariel knew that she loved Eric.”[i] Her eyes glaze over, and, on the basis of this solitary and completely one-sided encounter (Prince Eric might as well be a neurological vegetable for all she knows), she decides to give up her family, her kingdom, her voice, and her body so she can totally reshape herself into a woman she hopes he will find irresistible.

This is a woman with an incredibly high level of trust, reliance, and commitment, who has no real knowledge of who this man actually is! Really, all she knows about him is that he is handsome and rich and has probably had it easy his whole life. Given these realities, if she were smart, she should see whether he can demonstrate, over time, that he is neither arrogant nor entitled and that he is willing to do his fair share of the more crappy chores in life.

Sadly, in real life, there are plenty of “Ariels” (both men and women) who commit themselves in radical ways to people they barely know.

Real-life Ariels fly off to a faraway city to meet up with someone in person that they've just barely met over the internet. Real-life Ariels make cross-country moves to live with someone they've only ever known through internet correspondence. Real-life Ariels quit their jobs and eagerly present themselves as participants on shows like The Bachelor. Real-life Ariels enter casual sexual relationships with total strangers. No matter how sexually liberated one deems oneself, I’d submit that none of us wants to roll over in the morning and have our lover say, “So, what was your name again?”

In all of these cases, guarding your own safety means trusting someone only as much as you know them, which is an elegantly simple, but profoundly important, concept. When you are willing to make these kinds of commitments without any knowledge of the other person, what message does this send about self-worth? What is being cued to the other person when you demonstrate that you are willing to make a huge investment of your time, energy, finances, or physical body without any evidence that it is a wise one to make?

Ariel’s story ended happily, as we might expect from a Disney movie, but in the original Hans Christian Andersen version of the story, the little mermaid throws herself into the sea in a fit of despair, and her body dissolves into foam. I’m not saying that despair and conversion into sea foam await all who fall prey to the Little Mermaid Syndrome, but it is interesting that in the original tale, there is a sense of harsh consequences stemming from the impulsive actions of the youthful mermaid. Most of the time, life serves up a variety of natural consequences as well, so it’s probably wise to slow down and avoid becoming an Ariel in the first place.

References

*Walt Disney version of The Little Mermaid (1989). New York, NY: Gallery Books, p. 33.

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