This post is based on my personal lived experience with MCS.
What fragrance does to me
For me, fragrance isn’t just “annoying.” It can trigger a fast, physical reaction: a burning sensation in my throat and a feeling like my throat is tightening or closing up. Then come the nausea, dizziness, brain fog, and often a migraine.
Not all scents hit the same. Some are mild enough that I can tolerate them a little longer before I get too sick. But certain fragrances make me very sick within minutes. And once it’s on me, it can be hard to escape — the smell can cling to my hair and clothes, and I may have to wash and change clothes just to feel okay again.
If you’ve lived this, you know how isolating it can be. If you haven’t, I hope this helps explain why “just ignore it” isn’t an option.
What is MCS?
MCS stands for Multiple Chemical Sensitivity. You may also see terms like chemical intolerance or Idiopathic Environmental Intolerance (IEI) used in the medical literature.
In plain English: many people with MCS report symptoms triggered by exposures that other people tolerate — especially fragrance (perfume/cologne, air fresheners, scented laundry products), but also things like cleaning sprays, smoke, pesticides, paint, and off-gassing from new materials.
If you want credible sources that discuss how MCS is defined and studied, here are solid starting points:
- NIH / NCBI Bookshelf — Case Definitions for Multiple Chemical Sensitivity
- World Health Organization (IPCS) — Workshop report (Berlin, 1996)
- National Academies Press — Multiple Chemical Sensitivities (1992)
- Review article (PubMed Central) — Rossi et al. (2017)
- Review article (PubMed Central) — Zucco et al. (2021)
Common triggers
These are some of the big ones for me:
- Perfume, cologne, body spray
- Air fresheners, plug-ins, scented candles, diffusers
- Scented laundry products (detergent, dryer sheets, scent boosters)
- Fragranced personal care (shampoo, deodorant, lotion)
- Strong cleaning sprays and “fresh scent” products
And yes — “natural” doesn’t automatically mean safe for me. I react to fragrance itself, not just “synthetic chemicals.”
My home rules: zero fragrance
This is the part that surprises people the most:
I cannot have fragrance in my home at all. None. Not flowers, not essential oils, not scented cleaners, not fragranced laundry products, not scented shampoo/deodorant/lotion — nothing. Even “light” or “clean” scents can make me sick.
Because of that, I also can’t have visitors inside my home if they have fragrance on them — and that includes everyday things people don’t think about, like fragranced detergent residue on clothing, deodorant, shampoo, or lotion. Those scents can cling, linger, and keep triggering symptoms.
Visitors (and why I usually meet outside)
I don’t have many visitors. My close friends and family already know the rules, and they respect it.
For everyone else, I keep it simple:
- Meet outside whenever possible (walks, porch chats, patios)
- Zoom/phone when in-person isn’t realistic
If someone truly has to come inside (repairs, deliveries, etc.), I explain the boundary clearly — but I’ll be honest: even when I explain it well, most people still show up with some kind of fragranced product on them (usually laundry or personal care). Fragrance is so normalized that many people don’t realize how much they carry with them.
If someone arrives fragranced anyway
I don’t debate. I pivot:
- “No problem — let’s stay outside.”
- “Let’s do this on the porch/driveway.”
- “Let’s reschedule or switch to Zoom.”
What helps me after an exposure
I’m still learning, but these are the practical steps that help me most:
- Get away from the source quickly (the earlier I leave, the better)
- Wash and change clothes if the smell is clinging
- Ventilation (fresh air/fans when possible)
- Give myself permission to rest instead of trying to push through symptoms
Why I’m sharing this
MCS is hard because it’s invisible — and because modern life is saturated with scent. A lot of people assume it’s a preference, a pet peeve, or “just anxiety.” But what I experience is physical and immediate, and it can disrupt my ability to function.
If you live with MCS (or suspect you might), I see you. You’re not imagining it, and you’re not alone.
If you’re comfortable, share in the comments: What are your biggest triggers, and what helps you cope?
A short video that explains this well
If you’re trying to understand what this feels like (or explain it to someone else), this short video puts words to a lot of what people with MCS live through.
Can MCS be considered a disability?
In many places, chemical sensitivity / MCS can qualify as a disability when it substantially limits major life activities (like breathing) — which can mean a person may be entitled to reasonable accommodations (at work, housing, services). In the U.S., the ADA is based on functional impact, not a fixed list of diagnoses.
- ADA overview (definition of disability): read more.
- Job Accommodation Network (fragrance sensitivity/MCS resources): read more.
In Canada, federal human rights guidance explicitly includes environmental sensitivities under disability protections and discusses scent-free policies/duty to accommodate: read more.
