A woman washing her legs | Source: freepik.com/freepik
When Amelia’s dad gave her a bar of soap and told her to take cold showers with it, she never thought he had a secret, bad reason for doing so. Everything changed when her boyfriend revealed the shocking truth about that soap.
I’ve always been Daddy’s little girl, but now I feel sick when I say that. I’m not his little girl anymore, and he’s not the man I used to think he was. Let me explain why.
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
I’ve always been very close to my dad. I’m 23, and I lived with my parents until a month ago because Dad didn’t want me to move out.
I had the whole second floor of the house to myself, with my own bedroom and bathroom. Those two rooms were my safe space until Dad started complaining.
My dad has a personality like a coconut—hard on the outside but soft on the inside. He has strict rules and principles, but he also has a lot of empathy, which makes him a great dad.
He often says, “Character is built in discomfort. You have to face tough times now if you want a good life later.”
But he also makes me feel better by buying me chocolates and ice cream when I’m having a bad day.
My mom has always been the typical loving mom. She’s always ready to give hugs and kisses and never says no when I ask her to make my favorite pasta. She has always been so sweet.
But recently, I noticed that my parents seemed different. Over the past few months, they’ve become distant, and the love and care they used to show have suddenly disappeared.
Honestly, sometimes it felt like I was living with two strangers. It seemed like we had lost the connection we used to have.
Then my dad started making unnecessary complaints and nitpicking.
He said things like, “You and your friends were too loud last night!”
“You’re staying out too late, Amy.”
“You’re spending too much on things you don’t need!”
Then came the complaint that really hurt my self-confidence.
“You smell horrible! Go take a cold shower and use the soap I gave you!”
I was shocked. “I smell horrible? What? Where did that come from?”
That was the day Dad gave me a soap I had never seen before. It was a green, chunky bar that had a strange smell, but Dad told me to use it and promised it would help get rid of any bad body odor.
His words made me so self-conscious that I even stopped spending time with my boyfriend, Henry.
I started smelling my skin, clothes, hair, and even my breath to figure out why my dad felt uncomfortable around me.
I followed his advice and used that soap every time I showered. In fact, I took five showers a day just to use that soap and get rid of the smell that my dad seemed to think was a problem.
I scrubbed my skin so hard that it became dry and rough. It looked dry and scaly.
Even after all that, my dad still said I 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 mom didn’t say anything when Dad humiliated me like that every day. She didn’t defend me or stop me from being so hard on myself.
Mom and I had always been close. She was the only person I shared everything with since I was a kid. I would tell her about my latest crush, my new boyfriend, and even the new slang I learned at school.
I couldn’t believe it when she just stood there silently, avoiding my gaze, while Dad kept attacking me. I will never forgive Mom for not being there for me when I needed her the most.
I kept using the soap for my showers, and my clothes felt damp all the time because I was showering so often.
I also started avoiding my dad. I would rush to my room and lock the door whenever he got home from work. I didn’t want him to see me—or more accurately, smell me.
Things changed when my boyfriend, Henry, came over. We had been dating for a few months, and he was the one bright spot in my otherwise gloomy days.
Henry has always been the supportive boyfriend we all wish for. He’s always been kind to me, and he came over that day because he noticed I had been avoiding him.
“Where have you been, Amy?” he asked, holding me by my arms.
“I was… just busy with some stuff, Henry,” I said with a fake smile. “I’m fine.”
“Really? You don’t look fine, babe,” he replied.
“I’m okay, Henry,” I said, holding his hand. “Tell me one thing… Do I smell bad?”
He laughed, thinking I was joking.
“No, babe. You smell fine. Why?”
“Nothing. I just…” I mumbled. “Forget it.”
“I’ll be right back,” he said before heading to the bathroom.
A few minutes later, I saw him come out of the bathroom holding the soap bar. He didn’t look happy at all.
“Who gave you this?! Are you taking cold showers with this?!” he asked, his eyes wide open.
How did he know this? I thought.
“Yeah, my dad. Why?” I asked, trying not to panic.
“They didn’t tell you, did they?! Baby, this isn’t soap! It’s used to clean industrial machines!”
“Wait, what?” I was in shock.
“This stuff is toxic, Amy. It can cause chemical burns.”
I can’t explain how betrayed and heartbroken I felt in that moment. How could my father do this to me? To his daughter whom he loved so much?
That’s when everything started to make sense. The dry, itchy skin and the strange texture of the soap. It also made me wonder if my mom 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.
I knew he was right, but I just couldn’t connect the words “abuse” and “Dad.” I had never seen my dad in a negative way, and it felt wrong to think of him like that.
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 later,” I said. “Please just help me get out of here. I’ll talk to my parents later.”
He agreed, and a few days later, we moved into a small apartment. It was cramped and not well-furnished, but it felt like a safe place compared to what I had been through.
Then it was time for me to confront my parents. The next day, I drove back to their house.
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.
“I never thought you’d do this to me, Dad,” I said, holding the soap bar up for him to see. “This is toxic. It’s poison. It ruined my skin. Why did you do this?”
“Oh, so you finally figured out 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 spoke up. “Amy, you—”
“You knew, Mom, didn’t you?” I interrupted. “You were part of this crazy plan, right?”
I saw tears rolling down my mom’s face, but she didn’t say anything.
“Why did you do this to me, Dad?” I demanded. “I need to know!”
I wasn’t prepared for what he was about to say. I had no idea it would change everything.
“You want to know why?” he said, almost to himself. “Okay. When your mother and I went on that vacation last year, we had too much to drink. We ended up in a crowd, and a fortune teller told me that your mother had been unfaithful.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, my heart racing.
“That’s the truth,” he went on. “When I confronted your mother the next morning, she told me everything. She said 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, but she couldn’t look me in the eye. Then I turned back to Dad as he kept talking.
“Your mother begged me not to leave her because she didn’t want to break our family apart,” he said, shaking 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 broke into a million pieces that day. I couldn’t believe my father had this cruel side. He was filled with a need for revenge that was so unfair.
“You mean you gave me that toxic soap because you were angry at Mom? Because you thought I wasn’t your daughter?” I asked, my tears making it hard to see.
“You’re not my daughter,” he replied, turning away. “You’re not my blood.”
For a moment, I just stared at him, confused about why he would punish me for something I didn’t do.
“Alright, I’m done with you,” I said, wiping my tears. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”
With that, I walked out of the house that used to feel like home. Over the next few days, I went to the hospital several times for my skin treatment and talked to my lawyer about how to file a case against my parents.
Before long, my father got a notice about the restraining order and the lawsuit that was coming. This shattered his smug confidence, and his reputation was ruined. Everyone he knew was disgusted by what he had done.
Meanwhile, my mom tried to reach out to me, but I didn’t answer her calls or texts. If she couldn’t stand up for me, why should I talk to her? I was done with that.
Now that I’m living with Henry, I feel a sense of peace I haven’t felt in a long time. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much in my own home. I’m really grateful to have a man like Henry in my life. I honestly don’t know what I would do without him.
If you liked this story, you might enjoy another one about Bobby. He found a stash of expensive gifts hidden in his teenage daughter’s closet, along with a photo of an unknown older man and a note about a café meeting. He decided to follow her to the café, not knowing he would uncover a secret that could break his family apart.
This story is inspired by real events and people, but it’s been changed for creative reasons. The names, characters, and details have been altered to protect privacy and improve the story. Any similarity to real people, living or dead, or real events is just a coincidence and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher don’t claim that the events or characters are accurate and aren’t responsible for any misunderstandings. This story is presented “as is,” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters, not the author or publisher.
A Husband and Son Humiliate Mom, Treating Her Like a Servant – They Later Beg for Forgiveness on Their Knees
Prepare yourself for a tale of how one man took patriarchy to heart, turning our once-happy marriage into a blizzard of demands and orders. When our son started mimicking him, I knew I had to do something drastic! My story will have you shocked and angry at times, but the ending is worth it! Read on!
An upset and exhausted woman holding a cleaning rag | Source: Pexels
Hi everyone, my name is Samantha and I have a story to tell that I hope will inspire other married and non-married women. See, I work as a steamfitter and have been in a supervision role for a while, which allows me incentives and bonuses.
Besides all those extra benefits, I was earning more than $100 an hour! However, to earn that much meant I also had to work out of town, but it’s something I only started doing when our boy, Terry, was old enough to care for himself under my husband’s supervision.
A happy boy embracing his father | Source: Pixabay
Me earning so much meant our retirement savings were racking up, and we’ve been able to splurge on ourselves and the kids. I thought everything was fine between my husband and me, and he never made any special demands from me.
However, a few years ago, things started changing with Ben. I generally think it has something to do with the influence he’s been getting at work. See, my husband works with a team of sexist men who consider women as service personnel.
An unhappy man standing to the side while a woman happily works on a laptop | Source: Freepik
Their influence on Ben became visible in our fifth year of marriage when he started mocking me for not doing enough housework! He’d shifted his gaze upon me not as his partner but as his servant, even though I work too and earn MORE than him!
Our marriage, once a symphony of shared dreams and mutual respect, devolved into a series of expectations and dismissals. “It was as if overnight, he donned the cloak of patriarchy, echoing the archaic sentiments of his colleagues,” I mused, shocked by how things could change so quickly.
A messy kitchen left as is | Source: Flickr
What was even worse for me was that he liked throwing things around, leaving chaos in the kitchen before just lying down on the couch! However, what irritated me the most was that our son started COPYING him!
Knowing how hectic my work schedule was and wanting to find some peace at home, I told my husband to hire a cleaner, but he shocked me when he said, “NO! THAT’S YOUR JOB!”
I was fuming and frustrated by this new behavior and told him that in that case, I wouldn’t pay for anything because it was his job!
An overwhelmed and upset woman looking at a messy room | Source: Pexels
Last Saturday, I was at home with Terry and after having dinner, he got up without cleaning up after himself. My son, a mirror image of his father’s burgeoning disdain, challenged me. His words, sharp as knives, cut through the silence, “Clean this up and wash it.”
It was not just the mess he expected me to clean but the remnants of my dignity. I EXPLODED and with a voice that trembled with rage, I countered:
“Young man, believe me, you will apologize and clean up after yourself!” His retort was a cold, calculated echo of his father’s teachings, “No, it’s your responsibility.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing!!!
A mother scolding her disobedient son | Source: Freepik
In anger, I replied, “I won’t lift a finger until you apologize!”
It was then, amid the chaos of unmet expectations, that Terry uttered the words that would become the catalyst for my departure, “Fine, Dad said that if you don’t do it, we will find another agreeable woman and will live with her!”
His last statement was the straw that broke the camel’s back! That night, as the moon bore witness, I made a choice that would alter the course of our lives forever!
An upset mother sitting away from a defiant boy | Source: Freepik
Tired of arguing with a child who was merely mimicking his father, I took a deep breath and calmly put everything away. I then packed my things and went to see my friend. She and I have long dreamed of going somewhere on vacation, and there couldn’t have been a better moment!
Venting to Natalie, I said, “Well, they decided that they’d find another woman to fill my shoes; let them go look.”
“You’re an inspiration, my friend. I wouldn’t be as brave as you are, but I support you all the way,” she replied.
Two women taking a walk and bonding | Source: Pixabay
For a whole week, I refused to answer any of Ben’s calls as I and Natalie enjoyed our well-deserved vacation time. My absence, a mirror reflecting their own follies back at them. My mother sometimes said that she communicated with him, and everything was fine, except for the fact that he cried asking for me and said he missed me.
Two weeks later, I returned from my self-imposed exile but went to my mother’s place as I was still not ready to go home. I’m assuming my mother informed Ben of my return because the following day, he and Terry arrived at our doorstep.
A couple looking at each other with balloons in the background | Source: Freepik
The pair pitched with gifts and balloons, and both of them were on their knees at the door asking for forgiveness! Hmmm, I thought with a wry smile playing on my lips, “It’s probably not so easy to find some woman.”
The change in them was palpable, like the calm after a storm…they became like silk, gliding smoothly to accommodate any of my needs, and I literally couldn’t get enough of it! My home, once a battleground, transformed into a sanctuary of respect and shared duties.
A man and a boy happily cleaning together | Source: Flickr
My husband and son, now allies in our shared journey, had learned the value of respect and the irreplaceable nature of my presence in their lives. It seemed to me that not even a speck of dust had time to fall before they were already wiping it away with a ladder in hand!
Apparently, “sometimes people need to be brought down to earth,” I realized. Although our journey was fraught with pain and enlightenment, it served as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the transformative power of respect and love.
A woman smiling while a man playfully holds cleaning materials | Source: Freepik
In the end, we found not just forgiveness but a new way forward, a path paved with mutual respect and shared responsibilities. My story, a beacon for those navigating the tempestuous waters of personal upheaval, stands as a testament to the enduring power of self-respect and the unyielding strength of the human heart.
A happy woman relaxing on a couch | Source: Pexels
Samantha’s story showed how resilient women can be when they apply their boundaries. In the following story, this woman takes a harsh step against patriarchy:
Jenna’s tale unfolds—a narrative steeped in the struggle for respect, love, and self-worth. On a weekend that promised nothing out of the ordinary, filled with the usual humdrum of chores and work, a simmering pot of pasta became the unlikely catalyst for a turning point in Jenna and Jimmy’s marriage.
A woman about to taste a dish she prepared | Source: Freepik
Jenna, a nurse by profession, faced constant criticism from her husband, whose playful demeanor often bordered on the hurtful. From comments on her appearance to the quality of her cooking, Jimmy left no stone unturned in expressing his dissatisfaction.
But it was his sarcastic remark about her latest culinary effort that spilled over, leading Jenna to a moment of rebellion, marked by a pot of pasta sauce splattered across the floor. His reaction, focused more on the mess than on Jenna’s feelings, only fueled the fire!
A couple arguing while seated on a couch | Source: Pexels
He attempted to lighten the mood by claiming his reaction was a joke from a TikTok trend but did little to mend the rift, revealing a deeper issue in their relationship—a lack of genuine respect and understanding. Determined to stand up for herself, Jenna embarked on a daring plan of revenge.
Her plan unfolded in stages of silent protest, culminating in a dramatic exposé of Jimmy’s fraudulent activities! This act of defiance was Jenna’s declaration of independence, a bold step towards reclaiming her dignity and self-respect!
A proud woman laying her head on her arms | Source: Pixabay
In the end, her journey is not just about the breakdown of a marriage but about the discovery of self-worth and the courage to demand respect. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most challenging conflicts can lead us to a place of greater strength and clarity.
As Jenna steps into a future filled with promise, her story is a testament to the power of standing up for oneself and the transformative potential of asserting one’s value in the face of adversity!
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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