My father told me to take cold showers, always saying, “You smell horrible, go take a cold shower and use the soap I gave you.” And I did, like five times a day — it was driving me mad. My mom stayed silent, which was strange since we were usually close. I couldn’t understand why my father was so insistent on this routine. I thought perhaps it was some strange new parenting tactic to improve my hygiene.
I would stand under the freezing water, shivering as I lathered up with the odd-smelling soap. The scent was strong and unfamiliar, but I trusted my dad. Maybe it was some kind of miracle soap, I thought, one that would make me smell fresh all day long. But deep down, there was an uneasy feeling I couldn’t shake off.
One day, my boyfriend, Jake, came over. We were hanging out in my room, laughing and talking, when I suddenly asked, “Do I smell bad?” I didn’t know why I asked. Maybe I just needed reassurance that this whole cold shower ordeal was worth it. Jake laughed, thinking I was joking, and headed to the bathroom to wash his hands.
