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.

One day, my boyfriend came over, and I asked, “Do I smell bad?” He laughed, thinking I was joking, and headed to the bathroom. A moment later, he came back with a PALE look on his face, holding the soap I used to shower. “Who gave you this?! Are you taking cold showers with this?!?”

My blood froze. “Yeah, why?!” He started crying, “They didn’t tell you, did they?! Baby, this isn’t soap! It’s used to

treat infections in livestock!” he choked out, his face contorted in disbelief. “It’s not even meant for human skin! It’s not soap at all—it’s veterinary medicine!”

I stared at him, my mind unable to process what I was hearing. Veterinary medicine? My dad had been giving me this stuff and insisting I use it five times a day? Why? I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.

“I don’t understand,” I muttered, barely able to get the words out. “Why would he give me that? What’s going on?”

My boyfriend was still shaking, tears streaming down his face. “We need to get you to a doctor. Right now.” He gently took my hand and led me out of the bathroom, his fingers trembling as he dialed the local clinic from his phone.

While we waited for a callback, my thoughts raced. The confusion, the cold showers, my dad’s strange insistence on using that “soap”—what was he doing to me? And why hadn’t my mom said anything? Had she known?

As we sat there in silence, the phone finally rang. My boyfriend explained the situation to the nurse, and after a hurried conversation, she urged us to come to the clinic immediately. “I’ll drive,” he said, standing up and pulling me with him.

The ride to the clinic was a blur, my mind racing with unanswered questions. Was I in danger? What was that “soap” doing to my body? And more than that, why would my dad do something like this to me?

At the clinic, the doctor examined the “soap” and confirmed my worst fears. It was indeed veterinary medication meant for animals, specifically for treating skin infections in cows and horses. Prolonged use on human skin could lead to rashes, allergic reactions, and worse.

“You’re lucky you haven’t had a more severe reaction yet,” the doctor said, concern in her voice. “But you need to stop using this immediately and start using a medicated cream to counteract the damage.”

As the doctor wrote out the prescription, my boyfriend squeezed my hand. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered. But my mind was still spinning. What had my dad done?

Back at home, my boyfriend and I sat on the couch, trying to make sense of everything. “We need to talk to your dad,” he said, breaking the silence. “You deserve answers.”

I nodded, though my heart raced at the thought of confronting him. He’d always been strict, but this? This felt beyond cruel.

That evening, when my dad came home from work, I was ready. My boyfriend stayed by my side as I faced my father in the living room, the container of “soap” in my hand.

“Dad,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Why did you give me this?” I held up the container. “Why have you been making me use it?”

For a moment, my dad just stared at me. His expression was unreadable. Then, slowly, he exhaled. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this,” he said, his voice low.

“Find out what?” I asked, my chest tightening. “Why would you make me use something meant for animals? What’s going on?”

He looked at me, then at my boyfriend, who was watching the exchange intently. Finally, my dad sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands.

“I was trying to protect you,” he said, his voice muffled. “You have no idea what your mother and I have been dealing with.”

“Protect me from what?” I demanded, my frustration growing.

He lifted his head, and for the first time, I saw the pain in his eyes. “Your mother and I… we’ve been receiving threats.”

“Threats?” I repeated, confused. “What kind of threats?”

“From your uncle,” he said, his voice breaking. “He’s been blackmailing us, threatening to hurt you. He said if we didn’t follow his orders, he would…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

My mind reeled. My uncle? I hadn’t seen him in years, not since a falling-out between him and my dad. Why would he suddenly come after us? And what did any of this have to do with the soap?

“Your uncle’s involved in some dangerous business,” my dad continued, his voice strained. “He’s been forcing us to do things—horrible things. That soap, the cold showers—it was all part of his sick game. He wanted us to degrade you, humiliate you, so he could feel in control.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. My own family was being used as pawns in some twisted power play. But why hadn’t they just told me?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Because we were scared,” my dad said, tears welling in his eyes. “We thought if we followed his orders, you’d be safe. But we never wanted to hurt you. We were trying to protect you the only way we knew how.”

My boyfriend wrapped his arm around me as I tried to process everything. I felt a mix of emotions—anger, sadness, betrayal—but underneath it all, a deep sense of relief. Finally, I had answers.

“What do we do now?” I asked, looking at my dad.

“We go to the police,” he said firmly. “I can’t let him control us anymore. It’s time to put an end to this.”

Over the next few days, we worked with the authorities to build a case against my uncle. The police were able to gather enough evidence to arrest him, and finally, the nightmare my family had been living for years was over.

As the dust settled, my relationship with my dad began to heal. We had long talks about everything that had happened, and I slowly started to forgive him. He had made terrible choices, but I understood now that he had been acting out of fear, trying to protect his family in the only way he knew how.

My mom, too, apologized for her silence, explaining that she had been just as terrified as my dad. Together, we began to rebuild the trust that had been broken.

In the end, what had started as a horrifying mystery became a story of redemption and forgiveness. My family came out stronger, and I found a new sense of peace in knowing that, despite everything, my parents had always loved me.

And as for my boyfriend, he never left my side. He was my rock through it all, and our bond only grew stronger. We came out of this ordeal more connected than ever, and I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, we would face them together.

The cold showers and the “soap” were long behind me, but the lessons I learned during that time stayed with me forever. Family, trust, and love—they were what mattered most. And no matter how dark things got, I knew we would always find our way back to the light.