Deliberate Cold Exposure, Revisited: What I’ve Learned Since Then(An expansion of a post originally written and published two years ago)
- Dec 25, 2025
- 4 min read
I am an entirely new human from a few years ago.
That transformation still holds true.
When I first wrote about deliberate cold exposure, it felt radical — almost confrontational to my former self.
At that time, I would never have called cold exposure self-love. I would have called it torment. Years of hypothyroidism had trained my body to interpret cold as pain. Anything below eighty degrees felt like a threat that lingered long after the exposure ended.
Cold hurt. And because it hurt, my nervous system decided it was dangerous.
What I didn’t understand then — but do now — is that my response wasn’t weakness. It was biology shaped by stress, hormones, and genetics.
How This Began
My introduction to cold exposure didn’t come from podcasts or bravado. It came from clinical observation.
While working with a client experiencing acute anxiety, I placed an ice cube at the back of her neck. The response was immediate. Her eyes softened. Her breathing slowed. Her mental spiral stopped — not gradually, but instantly.
That moment changed everything for me.
It showed me that cold doesn’t always dysregulate. Sometimes it interrupts dysregulation.
What the Research Confirmed
As I began researching deliberate cold exposure, I was stunned by the breadth of physiological effects documented in the literature:
• increased dopamine, epinephrine, and norepinephrine
• improved stress tolerance
• enhanced blood pressure regulation
• improved mood and focus
• activation of metabolically active brown fat
• improved muscle recovery
These weren’t fringe outcomes. They were repeatable physiological responses.
Cold wasn’t numbing the nervous system.
It was organizing it.
Why This Matters More Now (Perimenopause Changes Everything)
What I did not understand when I first wrote that post was how profoundly female hormone transitions would change my stress tolerance.
As a perimenopausal woman, my margin for stress is significantly lower than it was in my thirties. Fluctuating estrogen and progesterone alter cortisol signaling, blood sugar regulation, sleep quality, and nervous system resilience.
When my stress load becomes too high, my symptoms are not subtle:
• I struggle to catch my breath
• digestion slows or shuts down
• my internal state feels agitated/restless rather than anxious
• rest does not restore me
This is not psychological fragility.
It is neuroendocrine reality.
The Genetic Layer: Why Cold Works for Me
Through nutrigenomic testing — something I now consider foundational — I learned that I carry a COMT gene variant layered with other polymorphisms.
COMT is responsible for breaking down dopamine, epinephrine, and norepinephrine. When this pathway is inefficient, stress chemistry lingers longer than it should.
In high-stress states, my system doesn’t gently downshift. It bottlenecks.
Deliberate cold exposure gives my nervous system a clear, strong signal that helps regulate catecholamine tone when my internal chemistry is otherwise overwhelmed.
This same genetic pattern is commonly associated with hypothyroidism and PTSD. Cold exposure doesn’t override genetics — but it can change expression.
This is where generalized advice fails and personalized data matters.
My Cold Exposure Practice (Then and Now)
I began with 30-second cold showers — mentally difficult, physically intense, but brief. Over time, I progressed to cold immersion:
• water temperatures around 45–50°F
• gradual increases in duration
• up to 3- 7 minutes per session
• 3–4 sessions per week
The effect has remained consistent:
I feel calm, grounded, and motivated for hours afterward due to sustained dopamine release.
Cold doesn’t stimulate me into chaos.
It stabilizes me.
What I Know Now That I Didn’t Then
Here is the most important evolution in my understanding:
Cold exposure is not a standalone therapy.
It is a precision tool.
Cold is a stressor — a useful one — but only when layered onto a nervous system that already feels safe.
Heat, light, nourishment, and rest create that safety.
This is why I now pair cold with infrared sauna and nervous system regulation, rather than using it in isolation.
Heat and Cold Are Not Opposites — They Are Sequential
Heat signals safety.
Cold trains resilience.
In practice, this looks like:
Warming the body and tissues (infrared sauna)
Supporting circulation and parasympathetic tone
Applying brief, intentional cold exposure
Allowing recovery and integration


