when i was young (like, properly young), scent was everywhere. after church everyone would gather in the hall in the basement for tea, coffee, and juice, and there was always a lingering smell. cigarette smoke. heavy perfume. it seemed like all the men smoked and all the ladies wore something, and that smell lingered heavily as i moved around the hall to get my cup of cheap powdered juice and a couple of cookies, to chat with my friends who also sang in the junior choir, which i did every year until my voice broke.
but at some point that changed, societal attitudes shifting, realizing that some people had allergies triggered by scent. or just didn't want to smell that all the time. it became less common. the signs started appearing, thanking people for being mindful of others by not wearing it. personally: i've never worn aftershave, cologne, anything. i don't want to have a scent. i don't want to leave a trace.
but sitting through last night's concert was uncomfortable. whenever the woman beside me moved, i'd get another hit of that smell. incense, for me, is tied to two specific periods of my life, to two specific people that would burn it. a friend long since gone from my life. and someone else. and so the sudden smell of it is unwelcome. regular little hits of it, like last night, unsettling. it takes me back to dark rooms. fear. unhappiness. it makes my skin crawl. & i'd be happy if i never smelled it again.