Disclosure

I've always been introverted. On a scale of 0 to 10 with zero being introverted and ten extroverted, I'm a negative 5. I don't like confrontation and since I prefer to leave others alone, I'd like it if people would leave me alone as well.  Unfortunately with MCS, people don't leave me alone. Their abuse of common air space suffocates me, and because of this, it's imperative to be vocal and disclose my sensitivities to anyone who plans to infiltrate my personal space.  If I don't, I risk constant exposure and illness. For an introvert, this is a pain in the ass.

Constant disclosure is an embarrassment.  
It feels like admitting 
to weakness. It is a constant reminder of your failure at basic living and it labels you as different and damaged. The reactions are insufferable. They'll look at you with blank stares either because what they are hearing is incomprehensible or they just don't care. How can anyone be sensitive to scented products if so many are able to use them with no consequence?

Most of the time people have no idea what being chemically sensitive means, but don't explain too much detail or their eyes glaze over as the lights go off.  Or you'll watch them take a step away like you have some infectious disease. Wear a mask and people run!  You can see it on a person's face if they think you are just a little off your rocker, even if they don't come right out and tell you.

No one likes being told they stink even if they purposely caused the smell themselves. It doesn't matter how nice you make it sound, it's always viewed as a personal attack. I met Smelly Woman briefly at an outdoor market through a mutual acquaintance. She was the organizer and asked if I wanted to volunteer. I graciously declined and clearly although kindly informed her of my sensitivities to her perfume.

Later she whined at our mutual acquaintance, oozing the insecurity and arrogance of a perfume addict, claiming she was upset because I didn't like HER.  Our mutual acquaintance reassured Smelly Woman, "Oh no! She really, really likes you so much! It's just your perfume she doesn't like."  I looked at her in disbelief. This wasn't the first time she led me right up to a perfume wearer for an introduction and it wasn't the first time someone thought I had the option to like or not like perfume smells.

"Really?," I said, "You lied. I don't appreciate people attempting to kill me. If someone came up to you and pointed a loaded gun at your head would you say, 'Oh, of course I like you - it's just your gun I don't like?'  So next time you see her tell her it's true, I don't like her. She's an idiot. A smelly idiot. I don't appreciate the weapon she's using to poison me."

I try to make my attempts at disclosure kind, non-threatening and blame-free, but I've found being too nice gets the message ignored and that puts me at risk. After multiple disclosures to the same person, I view them as a threat and I stop being so careful with my words. Extreme annoyance makes all attempt at civility go right out the door!

Sometimes I opt to not explain myself to strangers as disclosure so often feels pointless and draining. I could have declined the invitation to volunteer and left it at that, but if I feel strong and hopeful I try to educate perfume-wearing ignorants in hope that someday they will see the errors of their ways and stop the madness.

It usually takes some personal experience to really understand what it's like to be chemically sensitive. In the early days I worked with a man who wore copious amounts of cologne. He didn't get it and when I tried to explain, his eyes glazed over. He scowled every time he'd see me. He did his best to be fragrance-free around me because management demanded it.

One day he came rushing to my side, wide-eyed and enthusiastic, "I get it! I now understand  what you mean!" He went on to tell me a customer walked into our store wearing some kind of rose perfume. His eyes swelled, his sinuses stuffed and he sneezed. The epiphany overjoyed him.

I smiled at him sweetly, and asked, "Did your throat constrict?"

"Hmmm...no."

"Did you stop breathing?"

"Hmmm...no."

"Did you run to the restroom and throw up?" 

"Hmmm...no."

"Headaches? Migraines?"

"Hmmm...no."

"Were you sick in bed for up to a week?"

He looked at me shocked and amazed, "REALLY???"

Yes, really.  It's always a relief when the light finally does come on and they finally do get it.

Of course, those who are chemically sensitive, even slightly, will greet disclosure with the bright eyes of understanding and a welcome of camaraderie. Instantaneous bonding. I GET YOU! YOU ARE MY PEOPLE! I find myself jumping into the arms of total strangers as if I've reunited with long-lost soul mates.  More often than not it is eventually determined  they are part of the 30% who have minor reactions to everyday chemicals rather than the 15% whose lives have been dramatically altered and even their understanding is limited. Still, any understanding is better than none!

I am forced to constantly disclose, constantly educate, and constantly remind everyone of my fragrance-free requirements. A necessary inconvenience and a pain in the ass. I've replaced my introversion with determined defiance. It's exhausting, but I don't have a choice. I will survive!

What kinds of responses have you received when disclosing?
Why kinds of reactions do you get if you wear a mask