For over two decades, I have been navigating life with Multiple Chemical Sensitivity (MCS), a condition that profoundly impacts my daily existence. My journey began with a chemical injury caused by exposure to industrial toxins in the streets of Paris. At the time, I was in the industrial quarter encircling the city, often called the “Ring of Industry.” The exposure left me with debilitating sensitivities to everyday chemicals, reshaping the way I live and interact with the world.
As anyone with MCS knows, the challenges can be overwhelming. Symptoms can be triggered by substances as ubiquitous as cleaning products, fragrances, or building materials. The only viable solution for me has been to adapt my life to mitigate these triggers as much as possible.
One piece of advice stands out from all others in my journey. It came from my psychiatrist, Dr. Edward Gogek, who emphasized a simple but powerful strategy: avoidance is number one. These words have become a guiding principle for me. Avoidance means reshaping your environment to minimize exposure to harmful substances. For me, this has meant a life spent largely in the wilderness, where I am surrounded by fresh air and nature instead of chemical pollutants.
Henry David Thoreau’s philosophy on solitude and connection to nature has been a source of inspiration. He wrote, “I have a room all to myself; it is nature.” Thoreau found solace and freedom in the wilderness, away from the trappings of society, and I resonate deeply with that sentiment. His “room” was not confined by four walls but rather an expansive embrace of the natural world. For someone like me, whose health and peace of mind depend on avoiding synthetic environments, nature has indeed become my sanctuary.
Lordy Byron said “there is pleasure in the pathless woods” and Robert Frost said “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by” This line comes from a poem titled, “The Road Not Taken,” by the American poet, , I hope to raise awareness about MCS and the realities of living with this condition. It is a way to connect with others who face similar struggles and share practical solutions for navigating a chemically saturated world. The journey is not easy, but with the right mindset and strategies, it is possible to carve out a space for healing and hope—whether that space is a wilderness trail or the vast openness of the internet.
For anyone living with MCS, my message is simple: prioritize avoidance, seek support, and, when possible, immerse yourself in the natural world. There, like Thoreau, you might just find a room to call your own.
And hey, on the bright side, at least I never have to worry about anyone spraying perfume on me in the woods—just an occasional skunk!