I Accidentally Turned My Shower Into a Neuroscience Experiment

I am someone who cannot simply… notice a thing.

I must investigate it. Lightly obsess over it. Open 17 tabs about it. Possibly spiral.

So when I saw a post claiming that “neurodivergent people tend to stand with their back to the water in the shower,” my brain did what it always does:

Grabbed a flashlight. Put on a trench coat. Kicked in a door that did not need kicking.

Because I have stood with my back to the water my entire life.

Not occasionally. Not situationally. Religiously.

Unless I am rinsing my face, in which case I briefly turn like a cautious woodland creature and then immediately retreat to my natural habitat: back to the stream, contemplating existence.

And I thought… everyone did that.

Apparently, no.

Apparently there are people out there just… standing face-first into the water like they’re auditioning for a shampoo commercial or settling a personal score with gravity.

So naturally, I went down the rabbit hole.

And by “rabbit hole,” I mean I emerged 40 minutes later with theories, neuroscience terms, and a deep need to tell all of you about it.

Because it turns out… the way you stand in the shower might actually influence how your brain behaves.

Which feels fake. And yet. Here we are.

Back to the Water: My People, My Tribe

This is the thinking position. The “I came in here to rinse off and instead solved a plot hole, replayed a conversation from 2009, and invented a new personality” position.

Warm water hits your back and neck, your body relaxes, and your brain quietly opens a side door labeled “unattended thoughts, please wander freely.”

This is where the magic happens.

This is where:

• You figure things out.

• You connect dots that were not even in the same puzzle.

• You come up with the perfect sentence… and then immediately forget it because you didn’t bring a notebook into the shower like a maniac.

It is, scientifically speaking, the “leave me alone, I’m thinking” setting.

Facing the Water: The Bold. The Focused. The Slightly Concerning.

Then there are the people who face the stream.

Directly.

No flinching. No blinking. Just… commitment.

This position is less “creative wandering” and more “we have a task and we will complete it.”

Water hits your face and your brain goes,“Right. We are awake. We are present. We are being lightly waterboarded but with purpose.”

You are not here to daydream. You are here to get clean and get out.

Efficient. Admirable. A little terrifying.

The Spinner: Agents of Chaos

And then there are the spinners.

The rotators. The slow-turn philosophers.

You don’t choose a side. You orbit.

Back. Side. Front. Back again. Like a rotisserie chicken with opinions.

This, apparently, keeps your brain in a kind of creative middle ground. Not fully relaxed, not fully alert. Just enough stimulation to generate ideas without committing to any of them.

You leave the shower with:

• Several thoughts.

• No conclusions.

• Mild confusion about whether you used conditioner.

So… What Did I Learn From All This?

Aside from the fact that I will absolutely fall down any rabbit hole handed to me like it’s a personal invitation?

I learned that my lifelong “back to the water” stance might explain why the shower is where my brain does its best work.

It’s not just habit. It’s a setting.

A very specific, very steamy “do not disturb, I’m solving things” setting.

And Now I Need to Know

Because this is the kind of very important nonsense I cannot keep to myself:

When you step into the shower… who are you?

• Back to the water, solving life like a quiet genius?

• Facing the stream, bravely battling cleanliness?

• Or spinning slowly, like a thoughtful little planet?

And more importantly…Did you choose your shower stance… or did it choose you?

I’ll be over here.

Back to the water.

Rewriting my entire personality one thought at a time.