It started when I was 8 or 9 years old. I was in my bed, reading donald duck comics.
From outside I heard someone approaching. It was my mum. She opened the door, said good night, and went into the bathroom. The bathroom was on the other side of my wall. She started filling up the bathtub. The sound got muffled and deep as it passed through the wall.

I discovered how wonderful it felt. Like a blanket that tucked me in. I was safe.
Whenever anyone in the family would take a bath, I jumped into bed. I got so addicted to this experience. 

This is how it all started. I changed my bading routine.

Before I would obviously just jump right in the tub like any normal person. But not me.
First, I opened the faucet. Then I found some towels. I laid down on the floor and wrapped the towels around me. Now I was in heaven. It was just me. Alone behind a closed door. No one could get in. The sound of the water hitting the bottom of the tub made the sound thin at first. As the water level would rise, the sound got deeper and deeper. It blocked off all other sounds in the house, making me feel even more hidden away.
I was alone, safe and snuggled up in towels. Occasionally a few drops of water escaped the bathtub, flew through the air, got cold and hit my skin.
I felt a tingling sensation in my whole body. I concentrated on that feeling of the cold water droplets, the tingling sensation, the sound of the water. I was not thinking about the past or the future. In fact I wasn’t “thinking” at all, just experiencing. Focused on the here and now. I was so relaxed, and almost fell asleep. But not quite. For brief moments my hearing vanished before coming back. Everything was perfect.
Then I started worrying. And my worries grew stronger as more time passed.
How full was the bathtub? Was this wonderful experience soon over?

Eventually it had to come to a stop.

As soon as possible I would return to the bathroom. And I made some changes to make things even more comfortable and cozy. In one hand I had my duvet and a pillow, in the other donald duck comics. It was just one more important thing left. I had to find my cat. She didn’t really want to be there, but she did tolerate it for a short time. Some people had invisible friends to talk to, as did I some years prior. But now, my friend was my cat that I loved so much. I started filling the tub again, snuggled up in my duvet and now I had my purring cat right next to me. The donald duck comics were there, but I never felt like reading them in this situation. In this meditative state, I just looked at them briefly. It was cozy just to have them there. The bathroom wall was partially made of wood. I stared at the texture. Focused on the details. My mum had made a painting I also loved just looking at. There was a field of tall grass and some trees covered in fog. I loved this painting because of this unknown mystery in the distance. Anything could be there. But I also didn’t really think about what could be there. It just drew me in and I focused on the unknown

I could never get enough of this feeling. My parents could get enough of it though. Heating up the water was expensive. They started using a broom to hit the ceiling below me. The loud knocking sounds dragged my mind away from my trance-like state and back to normality. Normality with unpleasant frustration. They yelled “stop filling the tub, it’s enough now!”. As addicted to the bathroom as I was, I went in there more and more often. And my parents got more and more impatient. They started hitting that ceiling very early. They screamed, and I screamed back “There's almost no water in the tub!”. 

I guess I got desperate because I started recording the sound of the water onto a cassette. It really wasn’t the same. I even recorded myself flushing the toilet for some reason. I really have no idea why I did that. 

Whenever I had the chance I would always return to the bathroom. Finding the best balance of how much I opened the faucet to get the best sound while extending the time it took to fill the tub. Hugging my ear against the tub got me that low frequency rumbling sound.

What a simple thing to do, yet so amazing at the same time. But it all stopped. 

I moved out and didn’t have a bathtub. I kind of forgot about it. At least for many years. But something happened in my 30’s. The wonderful feelings of nostalgia got stronger. Wonderful memories of my childhood frequently reappeared. I thought about my strange addiction. Did anyone do what I did? One day I went onto youtube and searched for “bathtub filling up”. And the result blew my mind! There were many many videos of bathtubs being filled up. Several hours long. I wasn’t the only one, there were many of us. And they shared their stories about their child memories of filling the bathtub. They were very similar to my own. There are of course differences, but we all had the same emotional experience. The ultimate feeling of being snuggled up, safe and warm. Now as an adult, It's not only about the sound and how it makes us feel, but the childhood memories.
 

I love reading about other people's experience of enjoying the sound of the bathtub filling up, and I know others really love that too. I hope some of you still have a bathtub. That you will read my story while filling it up. And if you do, I know how you feel right now. Safe, content and cozy.

If you have a story to share I would love for you to share it below. And other visitors will also surely appreciate it. If you do, thank you :) I will enjoy reading your story.