Infamous words from Amaya Papaya (Love Island S7): “God forbid I’m a sensitive gangster.”

Now, she wasn’t exactly talking about what I’m about to say… but honestly, same. Except I’m talking about being a skin-sensitive gangster.

I live in Arizona — aka the land where everyone’s practically inhaling a side of dust with their breakfast. It’s not actually valley fever for all of us, but the amount of dirt in our lungs? Criminal. Would I move? Absolutely not. Snow and I are not friends.

Young Alliyah had three defining traits: allergic to cats, undiagnosed asthma, and lactose intolerance. “Undiagnosed” because my mom has severe asthma, mine only showed up around cardio or cats, and I’d sneak a hit off her inhaler every so often (shhh). Meanwhile, I was a cross-country and track runner, volleyball player, and swimmer.

Then… a month after high school, my body apparently decided to spice things up. New allergies came rolling in like uninvited party guests. Random skin itchiness, hives, chronic stuffy nose, scratchy throat — which I later found out was from a severe watermelon allergy. Like… throat-closing severe.

Yes. Watermelon.

In 2018–2019, I finally got the dreaded back-prick food allergy test. The results? Kind of underwhelming. Sensitive to a bunch of foods — peanuts, nuts, most fruits except bananas and (ironically) watermelon — but nothing “never eat this again” serious. Not that it mattered. I have texture issues with most fruits anyway, so veggies have always been my thing.

2019–2023 was basically: a five-year breakup, pandemic, panic attacks at work, and moving to a new city. In short — stress, stress, stress. And no, I still didn’t take allergy management seriously. Picture a 6’0” 28-year-old woman just sneezing, itching, and overthinking life.

Fast forward to 2023–2024: I graduated from massage therapy school in August 2023. Worked for two chiropractors for six months, then a chain for about five. Cue the biggest rash of my life on my left arm. It had shown up a few times before, but this time it stuck around for five days, growing bigger and angrier. Urgent care threw meds at me — creams, pills, the works — and nothing helped. That rash made me stop and think: What if this is mental?

So I gave myself an ultimatum: quit massage after just eight months… or start my business WAY EARLIER than planned. Then I kept seeing 11:11 on the clock for a month straight, took it as a “new beginnings” sign, and chose the latter.

Not saying all my allergies are mental — keep reading.

End of 2024: Finally saw an allergist for environmental testing. Out of 69 pricks, I reacted to 66. My allergist’s face was pure horror. I just laughed. It made perfect sense. On top of that, he diagnosed me with chronic recurring urticaria (stress-triggered hives) and said, “Also… welcome to Arizona.” I left with montelukast, four EpiPens, and a sense of dramatic validation.

December 2025: My dad says, “Alliyah, stop eating eggs.” I’ve eaten eggs every day for years. Reluctantly, I quit them for a month before starting the new meds. I felt incredible — breathing better, more energy, no congestion. Tried eating them after 31 days and instantly felt like I’d been caught in a dust storm.

Since then, I’ve been curating my Sensitive Gangster Arsenal: humidifiers, air purifiers, unscented and organic cleaners, gentle body products. And honestly? Game changer. You can find all my sensitive gangster home goods in Shop My Finds → Holistic Home Vibes.

So yeah, I’m Alliyah — talker, experiencer, oversharer. I go through it so you know you’re not alone. If you’re a fellow sensitive gangster, I hope you figure out what’s making you itch (or cry).

I'm a Sensitive-Skin Gangster

-- And Here's What That Means For My Skin