Why Cold Water Feels Like a Crime in Taiwanese Households

When I was little, my mom used to give me this very specific look whenever I reached for anything with ice in it. It was a mix of concern and disapproval. Then she’d say something like, “Don’t drink iced water. It’s bad for your stomach. Especially for girls.” And whenever I had period pain, she’d give me that I told you so look. 

At first, I gave up the pleasure of iced drinks reluctantly. But as I grew up, it became one of those life rules you just accept, like not pointing at the moon or always finishing your rice so your future spouse won’t have pimples. 

The theory, or maybe a cultural commandment, is that cold drinks mess up your internal balance. According to traditional Chinese medicine, the body is like a finely tuned system that needs to stay warm and harmonious. Cold drinks, they say, can cause cold energy to invade your digestive organs, particularly the spleen and stomach, which are believed to prefer warmth. Once that chill sets in, you’re looking at all kinds of drama: bloating, cramps, fatigue, and worse. Even after exercising, when an icy drink sounds like the perfect reward, traditional Chinese medicine believes it can actually trap heat inside the body by blocking sweat, leading to things like fatigue, dizziness, and stomach discomfort. 

And it gets even more specific when it comes to women. In traditional Chinese medicine, the uterus is seen as a warm and cozy palace, one that really hates being cold. Too much iced water is thought to make this palace shiver, leading to irregular periods, cramps, or even fertility issues. So drinking bubble tea with extra ice? Basically a personal attack on your womb. 

This theory, passed down from generation to generation, is deeply rooted in my mind. And now that I’m a mom, I’ve caught myself doing the exact same thing. Every time I see my daughter happily drinking iced cold water, I just can’t help saying, “Don’t drink too much. It’s bad for you.”

As for my husband, he thinks the whole thing is absurd. “It’s just cold water,” he says, shaking his head and sipping his ice cold Coke like it’s proof that his organs are made of steel. 

And yet here I am, fully committed. Even in the middle of summer, when everyone else is sweating and gulping down iced lattes, I’ll be holding a hot milk tea like it’s my emotional support beverage. My husband will glance over with a look that either means he thinks I’m incredibly tough or completely crazy. Probably both.

I know there’s no solid science behind the fear of cold drinks. Western doctors won’t warn you about your uterus catching a cold from a Frappuccino. But still, the belief is so deeply baked into my brain that even on a scorching day, I hesitate. I’ll grab a cold drink, take one sip, and hear the ghost of my mom’s warning echo in my ears. 

It’s funny how these little bits of cultural wisdom stick with us. Whether or not they’re true, they become part of who we are. Part of how we care for the people we love, even if it means gently prying a cold drink out of their hands with a concerned whisper of,

“Here, just have some warm water instead.”