The other day, I sneezed out of nowhere—one of those body-wrenching sneezes that makes you feel like you just worked out a muscle group you didn’t know existed. The odd thing? There wasn’t a pollen-filled breeze or a furball in sight. No dusty corners or blooming flowers. What hit me? Who knows. Maybe I’ve developed an allergy to life’s randomness.

Allergies are funny that way. You can go years, happily scarfing down peanuts, hanging out with cats, or breathing in city air with nary a sniffle, only to wake up one day with a full-blown reaction to something as innocuous as laundry detergent or, worse, your favorite snack. It’s like your body suddenly decides, “You know what? This friendship with almonds has gone on long enough. Time for us to part ways.”

But here’s the kicker: What if these allergies extend beyond the usual suspects—food, pollen, dust—and now involve… people? Hear me out. Have you ever noticed your energy dip, your mood shift, or even a strange physical reaction when a certain someone walks into the room? I swear, it’s like some individuals bring their own special brand of human pollen with them, leaving you with a headache or the overwhelming need to scratch your arm.

Okay, okay, so maybe I’m not allergic to people literally, but emotionally? That’s another story. Some folks just carry this invisible cloud of toxicity around, triggering your body’s internal alarm system. Sudden irritability? Check. Eye twitch? Definitely. A desperate need for a glass of wine and solitude? Absolutely.

I like to think of these human allergies as my psyche’s way of telling me, “Hey, this person is not for you. Time to socially distance… permanently.” Unfortunately, there’s no EpiPen for that. You’ve just got to remove yourself from the situation before your metaphorical hives break out.

As a psychologist, I’ve got to admit—our bodies and minds are weird, wonderful, and sometimes hilariously inconvenient. One minute you’re happily munching on shrimp, and the next, you’re popping antihistamines like candy. One day, you can tolerate someone’s constant negativity, and the next, you’re fantasizing about inventing a social hazmat suit.

So, here’s my advice: listen to your body. If your sinuses rebel after visiting Aunt Millie’s, or you break into an emotional rash around Negative Nancy, take it as a sign. Maybe life’s just giving you a little nudge to make some space—for your health, of course.

And hey, who knows? Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up allergic to the sound of leaf blowers. Now that’s an allergy I could get behind.