Between high school and college, people are striving to find themselves socially. They try their hardest to make friends, and a lot of the time that happens outside the classroom.

At parties.

Now I understand it’s possible to attend these parties without doing the typical party activities. Not everyone has to drink, and I’ve never been forced or pressured to do so. However, the peer pressure isn’t what has me avoiding the social circles. It’s what I can’t avoid if I do attend. The inevitable cloud that everyone must walk through to get to the dance floor.

I’m allergic to smoke.

Yeah, it’s weird.

I know.

I found out about it on my second Christmas. My paternal grandparents were avid smokers. We all went over to their house to celebrate, and I was only about a year old. Of course, my mother wouldn’t let them light a single cigarette around me, but that didn’t seem to stop them from sneaking it in the other room. The fumes strayed through the hallway and found their way into the living room, straight into my little lungs.

I was taken to the emergency room soon after. I had collapsed into a fit of coughing that was hindering my breathing. Doctors later revealed I had developed a sudden onset of croup, an infection that causes swelling of the vocal chords, windpipe and bronchial tubes. They concluded that the smoke had caused an allergic reaction.

From that point on, we realized I would need to be careful at everyday life events. I grew up loving and playing baseball, but I had to hold my breath for minutes at a time to walk past the smoking section at the bottom of the stairs to the A’s stadium. I had to be wary of people walking down the street. Or outside of Walmart. Or absolutely anywhere. Rules for smoking weren’t as strict in the early 2000s as they are now. On occasion, people grow out of their allergies. Not me.

However, my allergy developed over the years. When I was about 12, I developed a condition called vocal chord dysfunction. It’s the evil twin of asthma. Evil because VCD doesn’t get an inhaler. It requires surgery. I still get the wheezing, the shortness of breath, but no aid.

Imagine drowning. Your body shuts down into survival mode to do everything it can to protect you. This includes your throat, specifically your vocal chords, closing without your say, in order to keep the water from entering your lungs.

In my case, I’m drowning above water. My body tries to protect me from harm getting into my lungs. Unfortunately, that means it cuts off almost all air from entering my lungs.

So you can imagine it would be a bit embarrassing to have that happen in the middle of trying to start up conversation at a party.

Parties seem to be one of the only ways to be social in college. Of course, there are clubs and such to join, which I gladly do, but I only have so much time during the weeks. None of those clubs take up events on Friday or Saturday nights, most of which I spend in my room. Not that I mind alone time, but it would be nice to get out and do something more social. Of course, I could always risk the endeavor to go out, and I know my roommates and the people I go with would look out for me. But no one wants to be that person that stops the fun or has to be babysat.

Nowadays, smoking has taken on a different meaning than when it first came about. Clubs and bars are available for people to go in and socialize over a smoke. I have coworkers who all get together just to smoke. I have heard people talk about the bonding experiences they have while high together.

Now by all means, I’m not wishing I could smoke. I don’t see any appeal to it, and I don’t believe I would smoke even if I weren't allergic. But I do wish society weren't so wrapped up in the obsession of it, so that I wouldn’t have to avoid creating relationships with most people my age.

It’s inconvenient, more than anything. But that’s just a snippet of what it’s like being allergic to something your friends do for fun.