Every girl has her problem area. Even the 10s will find something that they don’t like about themselves. Their middle toe is too long, their knees are knobby (personally I would pay for knobby knees) their arms are too hairy, visible veins in their legs or ears that stick out.

“Perfect body” girl complaints are like busy work, whereas normal girl complaints are a real task; flat chest, thunder thighs, bat wings, muffin top and my personal favorite, junk in the trunk.

If I was ever keeping a government secret and my captives needed to use torture techniques to get me to spill the beans all they would have to do is threaten me with the idea of showing my bare rump shaker to a group of good looking (and even not good looking) guys.

I’m pretty sure I could keep quite if they repeatedly dunked my head in a toilet or held a knife to my pinky finger, but the secret would be out if they lined up Vince Vaughn and a few of his closest pals to check out my “baby got back.”

Now I am not as insecure as I used to be, in fact nowadays I will walk from point “A” to “B” on the beach, sans the towel around my waist. There have even been some recent instances where I have actually got up out of bed during a “slumber party” to get some water and I haven’t taken the entire comforter with me as a butt shield.

So I guess I could say that I am making progress on letting go of my booty insecurities but I still have a long way to go. I am sure with a little more jogging and squatting and perhaps some self-tanning I could get handle on my back-end buddy.

However, if there was just some way to communicate my insecurities with the ocean, I would feel a little better about not wearing board shorts when I went stand-up paddle boarding with the guy I like.

I have tried making a “back-end” deal with the Pacific; it went a little like this… “How about I never put plastic in you and in exchange you don’t rip off my bikini top, board shorts and bathing suit bottoms while I am trying to hold a paddle and get the board out past the waves all while the guy that I am dating, is standing right behind me giving me a helpful push.”

You know what Ocean said to me? “No deal.”

Followed by, “Sorry Jen, this is your time to be humbled since you had such an easy time the first six times you went out on the water with this guy.”

“Well, Ocean” I said back. “Humble is one way to describe it. However, humiliating would be a little more accurate.”

You want to know what a bright white, non-firm rump-shaker looks like when kneeling on a board sitting squashed on the back of a pair of feet? I don’t want to know what it looks like and it’s my butt. But you know who does know what it looks like? Yup, my “slumber party” guest. He knows. It’s right there in his head forever stuck like an awkward stumble.

Oh well, I’ve had worse happen to me. I guess a little early morning BA action isn’t the worst thing in the world. Unless you’re my mother, who always seems to have the comforting thing to say, “Oh honey, that sounds really embarrassing, you know that area of your body isn’t your strong suit.”

Wow mom, I had no idea, and here I was thinking I could were a G-string at the beach. Thank goodness I had this experience to humble me. Well, at least my ears don’t stick out and my toes are cute, I don’t what I would do if I had to worry about that.