Dad Told Me to Take Cold Showers with the Soap He Gave Me — When My Boyfriend Walked into My Bathroom, He Started Crying

When Amelia’s father gave her a soap bar and told her to take cold showers with it, she never thought he had an evil, hidden agenda behind it. Her world turned upside down when her boyfriend told her the horrifying truth about that soap.

I’ve always been Daddy’s little girl, but now I feel like throwing up when I say those words. I’m not his little girl, and he’s not the man I always thought he was. Let me tell you why.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

So, I’ve always been close to my father, like REALLY close. I’m 23, and I lived with my parents up until a month ago because Dad never wanted me to move away.

He had given me the second floor of the house where I had my bedroom and a bathroom. Those two rooms of the house solely belonged to me. They were my safe space until the day Dad began to complain.

A man standing near a door | Source: Midjourney

A man standing near a door | Source: Midjourney

My father is one of those people with a personality resembling a coconut. You know, hard on the outside and soft on the inside. He has these strict rules and principles that he abides by, but he also has this empathy inside that makes him the best Dad ever.

“Character is built in discomfort,” he’d always tell me. “You gotta face the worst now if you want a life full of luxuries ahead.”

But he’d also buy me chocolates and ice cream on days I didn’t feel good.

A woman holding an ice cream cone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding an ice cream cone | Source: Pexels

Meanwhile, my mother has always been the typical loving mom. She’s always ready for hugs and kisses and never says no whenever I ask her to cook my favorite pasta. She has always been a sweetheart.

However, I recently felt that my parents were not the same anymore. Over the past few months, they had grown cold, and the love and care had suddenly vanished.

A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney

Honestly, I sometimes felt like I was living with two strangers in the house. It felt like we had lost the connection we always had.

Then began the unnecessary complaints and nitpicking from Dad’s side.

“You and your friends were too loud last night!”

“You’re staying out too late, Amy.”

“You’re spending too much on unnecessary things!”

Then came the complaint that really snatched my self-confidence.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“You smell horrible, go take a cold shower and use the soap I gave you!”

I smell horrible? What? I thought. Where did that come from?

That was the day when Dad handed me this soap I had never seen before. It was a green, chunky soap bar that smelled a bit weird, but Dad had asked me to use it, assuring it would help get rid of the unpleasant body odor.

A woman holding a soap bar | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a soap bar | Source: Pexels

His words made me feel so self-conscious that I had even stopped hanging out with my boyfriend, Henry.

I often found myself smelling my skin, clothes, hair, and even my breath, just to check what made my father feel so uncomfortable around me.

I followed his advice and used that soap whenever I took a shower. Or, if I may put it correctly, I took five showers a day just to use that soap and get rid of the smell that had apparently been haunting my father.

A woman taking a shower | Source: Pexels

A woman taking a shower | Source: Pexels

I scrubbed my skin so hard that I stripped it of the moisture it needed. My skin had begun to look dry, scaly, and so rough.

Even then, my father said I still smelled like rotten onions.

“Did you use that soap, Amy? I don’t think you did,” he’d say. “You smell so bad.”

What shocked me even more was that my mother didn’t say a word when Dad humiliated me like that every day. She didn’t say anything in my defense or stop me from being so hard on myself.

A woman sitting on a chair, looking down | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting on a chair, looking down | Source: Pexels

Mom and I had always been close. She was the only person I shared everything with since I was a kid. I’d always tell her about my latest crush, my new boyfriend, and even the new slang I’d learned at school.

I couldn’t believe it when she stood silently, avoiding my gaze, while Dad kept grilling me. I won’t ever forgive Mom for not being there for me when I needed her the most.

A woman looking down | Source: Pexels

A woman looking down | Source: Pexels

I kept showering with the soap, and my clothes always clung to me because they were damp from the frequent showers.

Besides, I began avoiding my father. I’d always scurry up to my room and lock the door whenever he returned home from work. I didn’t want him to see me. Or, more specifically, smell me.

The turning point came when my boyfriend, Henry, came over. We had been dating for a few months, and he was the one bright spot in my increasingly bleak days.

A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney

Henry has always been the supportive boyfriend, the green flag we all look for. He’s always been kind to me, and he came over that day because he had noticed I had been avoiding him.

“Where have you been, Amy?” he asked as he held me by my arms.

“I was… I was just busy with some stuff, Henry,” I faked a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Really? You don’t look fine, babe,” he said.

“I’m okay, Henry,” I said as I held his hand. “Tell me one thing… Do I smell bad?”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

He laughed, thinking I was kidding.

“No, babe. You smell fine. Why?”

“Nothing. I just…” I mumbled. “Forget it.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said before going to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I watched him step out of the bathroom with the soap bar in his hand. I could see he wasn’t too happy about it.

“Who gave you this?! Are you taking cold showers with this?!?” he asked with eyes wide open.

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

How did he know this? I thought.

“Yeah, my Dad. Why?” I asked, trying my best not to panic.

“They didn’t tell you, did they?! Baby, this isn’t soap! It’s used to strip industrial machinery of grease and grime.”

“Wait, what?” I was shocked.

“This stuff is toxic, Amy. It causes chemical burns.”

I can’t explain how betrayed and heartbroken I felt at that point. How could my father do this to me? To his daughter who he loved so much?

A woman looking straight ahead, shocked | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead, shocked | Source: Midjourney

That’s when it all started to make sense to me. The dry, itchy skin and the weird texture of the soap bar. It also made me wonder if my mother knew about this.

“I think we need to go to the hospital to get you checked,” Henry said. “And then, we’re going to the police. This is abuse, Amy.”

I don’t know why, but I stopped him.

A man sitting in his girlfriend's house | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in his girlfriend’s house | Source: Midjourney

I knew he was telling the truth, but I couldn’t put the words “abuse” and “Dad” together. I had never seen Dad in a negative light, and I didn’t like how those words fit in the same sentence and made so much sense.

In short, I couldn’t accept that my father had tried to hurt me.

“We can’t do that,” I told Henry. “We can’t go to the police.”

“But why?” he asked.

“I’ll explain that later,” I said. “Please just help me get out of here. I’ll confront my parents later.”

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

He agreed, and we moved into a small apartment a few days later. It was cramped and barely furnished, but it felt like a safe haven compared to what I had endured.

Then, it was time for me to confront my parents. I drove back to their house the next day.

When I arrived, Dad was in his usual spot, watching TV in the living room, and Mom was in the kitchen. I walked in with the soap bar in my hand and stood in front of my dad.

A man holding a remote | Source: Pexels

A man holding a remote | Source: Pexels

“I never thought you’d do this to me, Dad,” I said as I held the soap bar high enough for him to see. “This is toxic. It’s poison. It ruined my skin. Why did you do this?”

“Oh, so you finally found what it is, huh?” he smirked. “You needed to learn a lesson.”

“A lesson?” I laughed. “You nearly killed me. For what? Because you thought I smelled bad?”

“Please stop this!” My mother finally intervened. “Amy, yo—”

“You knew, Mom, didn’t you?” I cut her off. “You were a part of this ridiculous plan, right?”

A woman in her parents' living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her parents’ living room | Source: Midjourney

I watched tears trickle down her cheeks, but she didn’t say a word.

“Why did you do this to me, Dad?” I confronted my father. “I need to know!”

I wasn’t ready for his response. I had no idea it would turn my world upside down.

“You want to know why?” he said, almost to himself. “Fine. When your mother and I went on that vacation last year, we had a little too much to drink. We ended up in a crowd, where a fortune teller told me that your mother had been unfaithful.”

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“What are you talking about?” I asked as my heart flipped.

“That’s true,” he continued. “When I confronted your mother the next morning, she told me the truth. She told me you weren’t mine. You’re the result of an affair she had while I was working hard for us in another country.”

I looked at my mom, who couldn’t meet my gaze. Then, I looked back at Dad as he continued to speak.

A sad woman looking down | Source: Pexels

A sad woman looking down | Source: Pexels

“Your mother begged me not to leave her because she didn’t want to break our family apart,” he shook his head. “So, I agreed. But on one condition. I had to make her pay, and you too. Because YOU ARE NOT MY DAUGHTER!”

My heart shattered into a million pieces that day. I couldn’t believe my father had this evil side. The evil personality that was so hungry for unjust revenge.

A close-up shot of a woman, shocked | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman, shocked | Source: Midjourney

“You mean you gave me that toxic soap because you were angry at Mom? Because you thought I was not your daughter?” I asked as the tears in my eyes blurred my vision.

“You’re not my daughter,” he said and turned around. “You’re not my blood.”

For the next few seconds, I stared at his back in silence, wondering why he punished me for something that wasn’t my fault.

“Alright, I’m done with you,” I said as I wiped away my tears. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

A woman about to leave her parents' house | Source: Midjourney

A woman about to leave her parents’ house | Source: Midjourney

And with that, I stepped out of the house that was once my haven. Over the next few days, I visited the hospital multiple times for my skin treatment and talked to my lawyer regarding how I could file a case against my parents.

Soon, my father received a notice of the restraining order and the impending lawsuit. With that, his smug confidence was shattered, and his reputation was in ruins. His entire circle was disgusted by his actions.

A man reading a legal notice | Source: Midjourney

A man reading a legal notice | Source: Midjourney

Meanwhile, Mom tried to get in touch with me, but I didn’t reply to any of her calls or texts. If she couldn’t take a stand for me, why should I even bother talking to her? I was done.

Now, living with Henry, I feel a sense of peace that had been missing from my life for ages. I don’t remember the last time I had laughed this much in my own house. I can’t thank fate enough for blessing me with a man like Henry. I have no idea what I’d do without him.

A man sitting in his apartment | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in his apartment | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Bobby discovered a hidden stash of expensive gifts in his teenage daughter’s closet, along with a photo of an unknown older man and a note about a café meeting. He discreetly followed her to the café, unaware he’d uncover a secret that would tear his family apart.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Husband Mocked My Cooking Skills with a Powerpoint Presentation

When my husband mocked my cooking with a PowerPoint presentation in front of our family, I was humiliated. But instead of getting angry, I planned my revenge.

I had been married to Ben for almost five years, and most of the time, we were happy. I loved cooking, and I thought I was pretty good at it.

A happy couple | Source: Pexels

A happy couple | Source: Pexels

I’d been the family chef for years, and anytime we hosted, I would spend hours preparing lasagna from scratch, perfectly marinated roasts or intricate salads with homemade dressings. It was my thing, and I took pride in it.

Ben, on the other hand, could barely manage instant noodles.

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

His attempts at cooking were rare, and they usually ended with takeout or, on one memorable occasion, a pot of burnt spaghetti because he forgot to add water. Despite his lack of skill, he had an unshakable confidence about everything, cooking included.

Last Saturday, we had a family gathering at my mom’s house. As usual, I was in charge of the main meal.

A person holding a cooking pot | Source: Pexels

A person holding a cooking pot | Source: Pexels

I spent the day marinating the chicken, layering the lasagna, and tossing a big, colorful salad. By the time everyone gathered around the table, they couldn’t wait to dig in, and the compliments started flowing right away.

Then, just as everyone was starting to eat, I noticed Ben giving me a strange smirk that I couldn’t quite read. I tried to brush it off, thinking maybe he was remembering some inside joke. But then he cleared his throat and said, “You know, I’ve actually been taking notes on your cooking.”

A smiling man at a family dinner | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man at a family dinner | Source: Midjourney

I laughed, thinking he was joking. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

He went on, “I made a little presentation.” I thought he was kidding, but no. He pulled out his phone, connected it to my mom’s TV, and opened up an actual PowerPoint presentation titled “Improving Our Home Dining Experience.” The table went silent, and I sat there, stunned.

A family dinner | Source: Freepik

A family dinner | Source: Freepik

“Alright, everyone,” he began, sounding for all the world like he was on stage. “Slide 1: Too Much Garlic.” He tapped the screen, and up came a photo of garlic bulbs with the note, “Strong flavors can overpower the palate.”

My cheeks burned as he carried on. “Ben, what is this?”

Garlic bulbs | Source: Pexels

Garlic bulbs | Source: Pexels

Ignoring me, he continued. “Slide 2: Pasta Too Al Dente. We all know pasta should be tender, not crunchy,” he said, glancing around as if he were waiting for everyone’s agreement.

My sister let out an awkward laugh, and my dad coughed into his napkin. I was mortified but still too shocked to respond.

A shocked woman | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman | Source: Pexels

Then he showed “Slide 3: Not Enough Salt in the Salad,” explaining to everyone at the table how “a good cook knows salt brings out flavors.”

Finally, he wrapped up with a photo of Gordon Ramsay facepalming, captioned, “What he’d think.” He sat back with a self-satisfied grin, glancing around for applause.

A smiling man | Source: Freepik

A smiling man | Source: Freepik

The room was quiet. My mom broke the silence with a forced chuckle. “Well, Ben, that’s… certainly creative,” she said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.

I sat through the rest of the meal in silence, too humiliated to meet anyone’s eyes.

When we got home, I didn’t wait a moment before I turned to him. “Ben, what was that?” I asked.

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

“It was all in good fun, babe,” he replied with a shrug. “You take cooking seriously, so I thought you’d appreciate some feedback.”

“Feedback?” I shot back. “Ben, you humiliated me in front of my family! How could you possibly think that was appropriate?”

“Relax,” he said, brushing it off. “You’re overreacting. I was just trying to help.”

A man talking to his upset girlfriend | Source: Pexels

A man talking to his upset girlfriend | Source: Pexels

“Help?” I repeated, hardly believing it. “Ben, you can’t even toast bread without setting off the smoke alarm. Who are you to critique my cooking?”

“It was just a joke,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re being way too sensitive.”

I stared at him for a moment, feeling the last bit of my patience snap. “Fine. If you’re that much of a food critic, cook for yourself. I’m done.”

A couple with arms crossed | Source: Pexels

A couple with arms crossed | Source: Pexels

He laughed like he didn’t believe me. “Oh, come on, you’re not serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious, Ben,” I said, crossing my arms. And I meant every word.

After that humiliating dinner, I had no plans to let Ben off easy. The more I replayed the scene in my mind, the angrier I became. But instead of yelling or sulking, I decided on something better. If Ben thought PowerPoint was the way to go, well, I’d give him a presentation of my own.

A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

Over the next week, I poured my energy into creating “Improving Our Financial Experience.” It was hard not to laugh as I worked; my slides grew more ironic with every detail I added. This would be my perfect little payback, delivered with the same over-the-top style he’d used.

Slide 1 was titled “If We Could Afford a Vacation.” It opened with a dreamy stock photo of a sunny beach, complete with palm trees and turquoise waves.

A sunny beach | Source: Pexels

A sunny beach | Source: Pexels

Underneath, I’d written, “If we had a little more financial flexibility, maybe we could be here instead of at home this summer!” A few bar graphs followed, showing how our current income made a tropical vacation “not feasible at this time.”

Slide 2 covered “Home Improvements: If Only We Could Budget for It.” A shiny, fully remodeled kitchen filled the slide, with sleek appliances and granite countertops.

A modern kitchen | Source: Pexels

A modern kitchen | Source: Pexels

Below, I added, “Imagine the potential if we had some extra funds!” Next, I displayed a cost analysis of his favorite weekly splurges (a bit of reality check disguised as humor) and labeled it, “Potential Savings: Cooking at Home.”

Slide 3 had “Fine Dining (If We Didn’t Eat Out So Often),” complete with mouthwatering photos of elegant dishes from a nearby Michelin-starred restaurant.

Gourmet dishes | Source: Pexels

Gourmet dishes | Source: Pexels

I’d even put together a line chart comparing our monthly dining expenses to what we’d need to save for a special night at a place like that. A little brutal, maybe, but I was having too much fun by this point to care.

Finally, I wrapped it up with “Goals for a Strong Financial Future.” For the closing slide, I added an aspirational quote from an entrepreneur about achieving one’s dreams.

A man in a sharp suit | Source: Pexels

A man in a sharp suit | Source: Pexels

Right below, I inserted a motivational poster of a man in a suit pointing to the words, “Hard Work Pays Off.” I figured it would hit just the right note of playful irony.

The timing couldn’t have been better. We had another family gathering coming up, and I knew exactly when to roll out my masterpiece.

A woman plotting something | Source: Freepik

A woman plotting something | Source: Freepik

On the day of the gathering, I kept a straight face through dinner, politely accepting compliments on my lasagna without bringing up the previous incident. Ben was all smiles, seeming to believe the PowerPoint incident had already been forgotten. After dinner, while everyone was relaxing in the living room, I stood up.

“Hey, everyone,” I said, clearing my throat with a grin, “I actually have a little presentation I’d like to share.”

A smiling woman at a family dinner | Source: Freepik

A smiling woman at a family dinner | Source: Freepik

Ben looked at me, surprised. “Oh? What’s this about?”

“Oh, just a few notes I’ve been working on.” I grabbed the remote and connected my laptop to the TV. The screen lit up with the title, “Improving Our Financial Experience.”

A few of my family members snickered, glancing at Ben. He looked uneasy, glancing around as if he’d just realized where this was going.

Smiling people in a family dinner | Source: Pexels

Smiling people in a family dinner | Source: Pexels

“Alright, Slide 1,” I said, clicking to a picture of the tropical beach.

Ben’s face went red as our relatives chuckled. My mom shot me a curious smile, realizing what I was doing.

“Slide 2: Home Improvements—If Only We Could Budget for It.” I clicked to the next slide, revealing the remodeled kitchen photo with its sleek appliances.

A woman talking at a family gathering | Source: Freepik

A woman talking at a family gathering | Source: Freepik

A few of my relatives laughed openly, and my dad nodded in agreement. Ben shifted in his seat, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

“Slide 3,” I continued, “Fine Dining, and How Cutting Back Could Help Us.” At this point, Ben looked like he wanted to disappear, his face flushed and eyes darting around the room.

Finally, I reached the last slide. I smiled and concluded, “With a little focus and effort, we can accomplish anything, don’t you think?”

A smiling confident woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling confident woman | Source: Pexels

There was a moment of silence before my mom burst into laughter, followed by everyone else. Ben chuckled awkwardly, trying to play along, though it was clear he wasn’t quite as amused as everyone else.

When we got home that night, Ben closed the door and let out a long sigh. “Alright, message received,” he said, hands raised. “I guess I deserved that.”

A tired man | Source: Pexels

A tired man | Source: Pexels

“More than deserved,” I replied, crossing my arms. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you try to ‘critique’ my cooking in front of everyone.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “You’re right. I was out of line. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just… thought I was being funny.”

“Well, now you know how it feels,” I replied, though I softened my tone, relieved he seemed to understand.

A man comforting his woman | Source: Pexels

A man comforting his woman | Source: Pexels

Ben gave a small, sheepish smile. “So… does this mean you’ll cook again?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe,” I said, “but only if you promise to leave the ‘feedback’ out of it.”

A happy hugging couple | Source: Pexels

A happy hugging couple | Source: Pexels

“Deal,” he said, chuckling. “From now on, you’re the chef.”

And with that, our “PowerPoint wars” were officially over.

Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: Ethan criticizes Amanda’s cooking and calls her worthless in the kitchen, but she’s had enough. Determined to prove him wrong, she devises a secret plan. But how will this housewife turn the tables on her husband, who has been dismissive of her efforts all these years?

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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