Why I Take Cold Showers: My Self-Love Journey
Personal growth rarely happens inside a cozy cocoon.
My default mode is to resist stepping out of my comfort zone.
If I could grow into my potential by staying in my comfort zone, I would.
But life doesn’t work that way.
I’m far from living up to my potential, and I know a big part of it is because I’ve lived a “safe” life by remaining in my comfort zone most of the time.
I chose to listen to my fear – the voice in my head that convinced me of my inadequacy and inability to do things that scared me and made me uncomfortable.
I chose to believe that I lacked the discipline to go after what I wanted.
Not trying, not putting myself out there, seemed easier.
But when you deny yourself opportunities for growth, it affects your spirit and starts eating away at your self-worth and self-respect.
I need to change the stories I tell about myself.
I need to let go of the negative narratives and create new, self-affirming ones.
I need to work on loving myself.
One of the practices I’ve chosen to improve my self-love is by taking cold showers.
Why would I choose to subject my naked self to a cold shower?
Good question.
If I were given a choice between sweating from the heat and shivering from the cold, I’d choose the former option.
As I mentioned in my daily routine post, I have a low tolerance for feeling cold despite having lived in Canada for more than 40 years.
I think I first heard about the benefits of taking cold showers while scrolling mindlessly through TikTok a few months ago. One of the users talked about how taking cold showers has been a “game-changer” in reducing his anxiety and depression.
Although the thought of taking cold showers didn’t appeal to me at the time, I returned to the idea recently after learning that cold showers could help improve your mental resiliency and your capacity to do uncomfortable things.
The prospect of potentially improving my mindset and self-perception interested me more than the other claimed benefits of cold showers, such as:
- Improving your circulation and metabolism
- Reducing depression and anxiety by releasing endorphins (“happiness hormones”)
- Boosting your immune system
- Beautifying your hair and skin
In his Cold Shower Therapy TEDx talk, Joel Runyon argues that choosing to do something uncomfortable like taking a cold shower develops your ability to do uncomfortable things in other areas of your life as well. He even created the Cold Shower Therapy app to challenge people to “get comfortable with being uncomfortable.”
So, even though I hate feeling cold, I decided to do what’s quite unusual for me – I challenged myself to get uncomfortable.
I wanted to know: If I could muster the courage to take cold showers, how would it affect my self-worth?
*Please note: As advised in this article in Medical News Today, people with compromised immune systems and severe heart conditions are encouraged to consult their doctors to ensure cold showers would benefit their health.
MY COLD SHOWER JOURNEY
I took my first cold shower on April 10, 2020.
I’ve taken more than 30 cold showers since and keep track of my progress in my calendar. Following are some highlights of my journey.
COLD SHOWER LOG HIGHLIGHTS
Day 1: My strategy is to slowly introduce myself to the cold water, so I first shower using warm water then turn the tap to the cold setting in small increments.
From what I’ve read, taking a warm shower first, then finishing with a cold rinse is the recommended method.
You don’t need to use cold water for the entire duration of your shower to reap the benefits.
Russell Brand interviewed Wim Hof, known as The Iceman, for his podcast Under the Skin, and asked him how long people should take a cold shower. Wim advises people to start at 30 seconds the first time and to increase the duration with each successive shower, working up to two minutes.
My first cold shower takes place late at night, so along with the fear of feeling the cold water on my bare skin, I fear waking my neighbours from screeching in shock. I have to brace myself from the cold water and from screaming.
When the cold water starts streaming onto my skin, the initial shock is such that I can’t even scream, it takes my breath away.
I gasp. My breathing erratic.
I don’t last long. Maybe 30 seconds. When you’re standing under cold water, 30 seconds feels like a long time.
The worst part is when I turn my back to the water. The water feels especially cold on my back. I feel more vulnerable and exposed in this position.
After I’m done, I shiver uncontrollably for a few minutes.
I look forward to slipping into the warmth of my robe.
How was my first cold shower? It sucked.
Did I feel proud of myself? You bet I did.
Day 2: My strategy this time is to try to use my breathing to somehow offset the bitterly cold experience.
As in day one, I ease the water from warm to cold.
Once the cold water hits my skin I start huffing and puffing so hard the shower curtain sways with the rhythm of my breathing.
In my desperate hope of generating any semblance of warmth, I start to vigorously rub any area of my body the cold water is assaulting. This actually helps a bit.
In the middle of all this unpleasantness, I imagine how ridiculous I must look with my huffing, puffing, and rubbing, that I start to laugh.
When I’m done, I shiver so hard that my teeth chatter. I make sounds that remind me of the sounds I made as a child when I hummed against the air of an oscillating fan.
Although the shivering subsides after a few minutes just as it had the first time I took a cold shower, my alarmist tendencies get the best of me, and I decide to ask Google if I’m “normal.”
Someone in a discussion forum shared that he can’t stop shivering for 30 minutes after a cold shower.
HUH? 30 minutes! No. I’m not a medical professional, but that don’t sound “normal” to me. My three minutes compared to his thirty is all the proof I need of my normalcy.
Day 3: My strategy this time is to take 10 soothing breaths before changing the water from warm to cold.
This strategy doesn’t work well for me.
Soon after the cold water hits me, I start feeling lightheaded.
Not wanting to risk losing my balance and slipping in the tub, I turn off the water.
Once you reach a certain age, slipping in the tub becomes a growing preoccupation.
Day 4: New strategy. Instead of leaving the shower head in the holder and letting the cold water rain down on me, I decide to hold the shower head in my hand and move it over my body.
Warm shower complete, I turn the tap straight away to the cold setting rather than decreasing the water temperature in slow increments.
Starting from my legs, I move the shower head up my body as though I were scanning myself, except with freezing cold water.
Once I’m done, I notice I’m not shivering. It was just after the first two cold showers that my body fought to regulate its temperature through shivering.
Day 6: As I dry myself off, I say, “I’m proud of you,” and cry tears of pride into my towel.
Day 9: Yet another strategy. Instead of constantly moving the shower head over different areas of my body, I decide to just hold it in one spot, allowing the cold water to spray a targeted area for a longer period. For example, once I reach the back of my neck (which is one of the least pleasant spots for me), I aim the water there and hold steady – even if I want to move the shower head away.
Surprisingly, with this method, I find that after awhile, the water doesn’t feel as cold. This has become my preferred method of withstanding taking cold showers.
Day 10: Hair-washing days are the worst. Feeling the cold water on my face is so startling that I have to place my hand on the wall to steady myself for fear I’ll slip.
I time the duration of my cold shower by using the clock on the bathroom wall. I last about two minutes.
Day 12: I make it to three minutes!
I look in the bathroom mirror and say, “I’m proud of you, Grace.”
Other loving things I say to myself throughout my cold shower journey:
- Good job, Grace. You didn’t think you could do it, but you did.
- I love you.
- Keep going.
Day 14: I don’t usually sing in the shower, but I’ve been known to hum on occasion. The song I hum on this day is Outkast’s “Hey Ya.” I have no idea why.
Day 18: I finally remember to bring my phone into the bathroom to time my cold showers more accurately.
Duration: 2:46
By now, instead of reaching for my robe for warmth, which is one of the things I looked forward to after a cold shower, I happily remain naked while completing the rest of my skincare routine. It makes me feel free somehow.
Day 21: The hum-worthy shower tune this time is “I Will Always Love You.”
Day 22: To switch things up a bit, I take a warm bath and conclude with a cold shower.
Duration: 3:20
Day 24: A momentous occasion.
I look at the timer and see that I’ve reached three minutes. I decide to go for a bit longer.
When I look at the timer again, I’m at four minutes.
I start feeling cocky.
I’ve gotten this far. May as well keep going to make it an even five minutes, right?
I crack the five-minute mark. Five minutes and five seconds, to be exact.
I sing, “Heeeeeey Yaaaaa”!
Day 34: In an attempt to make the cold shower process a bit more pleasant, I try listening to music.
My song of choice? Shake Your Groove Thing.
Of course, I don’t actually shake my groove thing. We don’t want to be slipping in the tub, now, do we?
Plus, it’s kind of difficult to feel groovy when you’re trying to stoically endure a cold-water shower.
What’s the best part about cold showers?
When they end. No surprise there, right?
I’ve read that after awhile some people look forward to taking cold showers. This has not been the case for me. Perhaps that’ll change when summer comes around.
The best part about cold showers, for me, is how I feel about myself when it’s over.
I liken it to how some people feel about working out. Some people hate working out, but they feel great afterwards.
After a cold shower, I feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.
After 30+ cold showers, I still experience dread in anticipation of the cold water on my skin.
Despite the dread and knowing that it will be uncomfortable, I go through with it anyway. It’s become a foregone conclusion that every shower I take will end with a cold rinse.
Day after day, with each cold shower, I disprove the voice in my head that says, “I can’t.”
When I look in the mirror afterwards, the reflection looking back at me has a big smile on her face.
TINY CHANGES CAN LEAD TO REMARKABLE RESULTS
It seems like such a little thing. Silly, even, to feel such apprehension over taking a cold shower.
In the grand scheme of things, there are far worse scenarios than taking a cold shower.
But we don’t only need to make extreme changes and take huge steps to develop into the people we envision for ourselves.
“You’re taking the smallest action that confirms the type of person you want to be.” – James Clear
In his book Atomic Habits, James Clear asserts that tiny changes can lead to remarkable long-term results.
This is certainly my hope.
While it’s too soon for me to know if the small change of taking cold showers will have any lasting and meaningful impact on my self-perception, I know this right now : I feel proud of myself after every cold shower.
It feels good to prove the voice in my head wrong – the voice that says, “I can’t.” With every blast of cold water, I’m creating a new narrative that asserts, “Oh, yes, I can!”
Taking cold showers is just one of several little steps I’m taking to improve my self-perception and develop self-love.
And if these little steps lead me to believing in my worth and to loving myself, then each step will have been worth it.