My Fathers Unusual Rule Changed My Life — But Not in the Way I Expected

Some families pass down traditions like recipes, heirlooms, or stories told across generations. Mine passed down something different — a rule. A peculiar, unwavering, and rather cold rule.

My father was not what you’d call a sentimental man. Stoic, reserved, and bound by strict routine, he believed in discipline above comfort and structure above spontaneity. Growing up under his roof was like living inside a machine that ran precisely on schedule. No deviations, no questions.

But of all his rigid routines and non-negotiable beliefs, one stood out the most — his obsession with cold showers and a particular brand of soap. It wasn’t just a suggestion; it was a rule I had to follow from the time I was a pre-teen until I left for college.

Every single morning before school, I was expected to shower — not in warm or hot water like most kids my age — but in bone-chilling cold water. And I had to use only the soap he provided. Not the lavender-scented body wash my mom bought, not the oatmeal bar my skin preferred, but a strange, coarse, white bar that my father alone bought in bulk and stored in our linen closet.

At first, I thought it was just an old-fashioned parenting style. My dad would hand me the bar with a serious look and say, “Use this soap, and make sure the water’s cold. It builds strength.” That was it. No further explanation. As a child, you learn to stop questioning things you can’t change — especially when the grown-ups won’t give you straight answers.