By Neha Das
Photograph by Stephanie Zollshan

When I moved to the Berkshires in 2016, I had everything figured out. I’d graduated from dental school, specialized in pediatric dentistry, and finished a master’s degree in craniofacial development (yes, I really like school). My husband, daughter, and I had moved across the country to settle down in the Berkshires, where I’d found the perfect place to begin my career.

Fast forward a few years: I was still convinced I had everything figured out. My husband and I now had two kids and a dog, and we’d found a home we loved. I was the co-owner at Berkshire Pediatric Dentistry and was working with an amazing group of people who loved providing care for our patients just as much as I did. Everything was going great…and surely the weird, itchy rashes that were popping up randomly would just go away.

They didn’t.

In fact, they got worse. Much worse. And then my hands swelled and I started having random dizzy spells. I spoke to my doctor, who sent me to specialists. We were trying to figure out what was going on, but I refused to let it get in the way of my day to day. I told myself it was manageable, that I was resilient. There was no need to kick up a fuss about nonsense that would surely be sorted out soon.

Unfortunately, my condition continued to decline. I started to have major allergic reactions that caused my throat to close, again, seemingly at random, and I needed to use EpiPens at an alarming rate.

Finally, my doctors began to understand what was going on. I was diagnosed with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS), an immune disorder in which the cells that cause allergic reactions are unusually active. Typically, these cells have specific triggers, but in MCAS, they’re pumped up and ready to go at the drop of a hat. In essence, I was having near-constant allergic reactions, some more severe than others, and one of my major triggers was artificial fragrances (like perfume, cologne, Axe body spray, etc.).

Now that I had an answer, I was convinced all would soon be well. My co-workers rallied around me, going above and beyond to try to keep me safe, but I continued to have reactions at work. Finally, after one too many trips to the Emergency Room, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to continue working safely. What began as a six-week leave of absence turned into an indefinite hiatus that continues to this day.

The transition wasn’t easy. At first, I focused on trying to get better. Slowly, I began to get my energy back and could reclaim time with my family, which felt so good. At the same time, the void left by my former career kept feeling bigger and bigger. For so much of my life, I’d either been studying or practicing pediatric dentistry. It had become a huge part of how I defined myself, and now it was gone. I really struggled at first, but thankfully my family—especially my husband—and dear friend Pam helped me remember that there were ways to keep going, even if life was different than before.

The nature of my health concerns meant it was almost impossible to go out with others without risking an allergic reaction, so I tried to find more to do at home. I gardened, read voraciously, and began to go on more walks and hikes, but a part of me still felt empty.

Eventually, I turned to writing. A couple of years before, during the COVID-19 lockdown, I’d written a fantasy novel to feel like I was doing something for me when the world turned upside down. Now, I found myself in a similar position: I was stuck in my house and in need of a project, so I decided to write another book.

This time, though, I wrote it with the intention of getting it traditionally published. At the time, I knew very little about the publishing world, but I was determined, so I turned to my greatest strength: studying (like I said, I really like school). I bought several books about the craft of writing novels, joined an online instruction program called the Novelry, and began work on my new book—a historical fantasy about an Indian queen named Abbakka Chowta who ruled in the 1500s and fought against Portuguese colonizers.

Meanwhile, I had decided to stop pretending my MCAS would magically go away. I began to open up to my friends, who were incredibly supportive. For so long, I’d thought that making accommodations to keep me safe would be a burden, but they’ve never made me feel that way. Even the shop owners in downtown Lenox and Stockbridge have been so wonderful—often signaling to me through the windows if there’s someone wearing fragrances inside and I shouldn’t come in.

Bit by bit, I reclaimed my understanding of myself and no longer viewed my life through the lens of my career. Instead, I put more value into the life I lived outside of it. Yes, I am stuck at home a lot. But I’ve pursued my hobbies, spent more time with friends and family, went on road trips, and relished the safe spaces I’ve found. Now, almost three and a half years after I stopped working as a dentist, I have a literary agent who successfully sold my book, and my debut novel, “Burn the Sea,” will be published April 21 under the pen name Mona Tewari.

I am beyond grateful for this moment. While I certainly wouldn’t have chosen my life to go the way it has, I’ve learned a lot along the way, and I’ve redefined what it means to be resilient. For me, resilience is finding a way forward, even if it means heading toward an unexpected destination.

After all, winding paths still go somewhere, and it’s up to us to enjoy the view along the way.