"Hello, my name is Michelle, and I can't stop watching videos of people cutting soap."

I was at the football with my family when it all started.

My sister Evelyn was staring intently at her phone while Richmond warmed up and I inhaled a tub of hot chips. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t touch the screen. I’m pretty sure she didn’t even blink. She just let Instagram roll through various videos, all of them featuring two things:

1. Sharp objects
2. Soap

I looked over her shoulder at the people cutting soap methodically. Perfectly even slices were falling onto the table below, one by one, with such precision.

Sometimes the soap was shaved, in the way you would peel a potato. Sometimes the soap was chopped liked a diced tomato. Sometimes the soap was crushed, like my dreams when Love Island ends tonight.

All of the times it is effing delightful.

I was hooked.

Did I know why these people were cutting soap? No. Did I know why I kept watching them? No sir. I was too entranced by the sound of soap being divided into teeny tiny pieces of soap to care.

And oh, my, god. I am far from alone. There is a secret tribe of soap cutters out there who share my obsession.

There are tens of thousands of soap cutting videos online because, evidently, we all struggle dealing with the minutiae of life and look to the art that is destroying personal hygiene products for the solution.

Most 24-year-old women probably have an Instagram explore page filled with models, clothing brands and inspirational quotes. Not I, friends. My explore page is a treasure trove of soapy, knifey goodness.

Some people turn their noses up at my soap cutting fetish – they say it’s for the weak, and that true addicts have moved onto slime and foam videos already. Those people are stupid and don’t deserve the gift that is soap cutting. They are also messy and clearly don’t have an eye for immaculate slices of soap like I do.

My name is Michelle, and I’m slightly confused and scared, but the truth is undeniable.

I am addicted to soap cutting videos.