Long before I moved to Australia, I lived in an idyllic rural village in the South West of England, with open views of fields for miles around in each direction. The houses were beautiful cottages made of Cotswold stone, with roses in the gardens – and looked exactly as they would have a hundred years before. The local teenagers hung out by the park on horseback, and the two big houses hosted annual Summer Supper parties exactly as they had for generations. My elderly neighbour lived in the cottage his mother had been born in.
The village had a quaint old pub, a church, a nursery school, a post box and a play park. On the corner was a farm you could let yourself into, leave a couple of pounds in the honesty box, and help yourself to freshly laid eggs. The nearest shop was about six miles away, which was the closest option for even a pint of milk or loaf of bread (this was long before I’d ever even heard the word paleo). With miles of public rights of way, it was right in the middle of nature. And unfortunately a great big motorway.
The huge motorway was the main route from London to Wales and dissected the village in two. In the time I lived there, there was only one brief occasion when the constant rumbling of cars and heavy goods vehicles stopped – just for an hour or so. On this one afternoon, the entire motorway was closed after a serious accident. Rather than being blissful, the silence was eerie. Day in, day out, no matter how ungodly the hour, the roar of the motorway never ended. Along with the noise, the motorway covered the windows and walls of my should-have-been-yellow house, with a thick layer of dirt.
On hot days (rare in the UK), the better option was to be uncomfortably hot, rather than sleep with the windows open.
The fields that surrounded the village grew all sorts of different produce and it was fascinating to see a fallow field transform to a field of wheat in a matter of weeks – all from my kitchen window. Every so often I’d see the farm machinery spraying the fields, which would fill the air with a heavy, unpleasant smell for a couple of days. The type of smell you can taste, long before you get close to it.
Halfway down of one of the bridle paths, right next to the stream, was a huge steaming pile of (what I eventually learnt to be) human manure. I saw some of the best tomato plants I’ve ever seen growing up from that pile. The smell was one of the most unpleasant I’ve ever encountered, as made clear by my Labrador on her twice daily walks, who would do everything she could to drag me closer so she could have a good roll around in it (fortunately I was onto her and she never got to indulge in her penchant for excrement). Just when the pile looked like it couldn’t get any bigger, it would all but disappear, and I’d notice the smell had moved to the nearby fields, full of produce.
After living this healthy rural lifestyle for a year or two, I had a cold that just never went away. Or rather the cough never went away. No matter how much I’d cough, it would never quite resolve the need for the coughing. Eventually I went to the local-ish doctor (across the motorway, in the neighbouring village) expecting to be given some medication to clear up my cough. Without even getting so far as to see the doctor, a nurse heard my wheezing and coughing and instantly diagnosed asthma. Which I hadn’t realised you could develop, totally out of the blue, at the ripe old age of 23.
With the help of modern medicine, the coughing stopped, and it was manageable*
But I’ve always wondered, did where I live cause me to develop asthma?
If you developed asthma as an adult, what do you think caused it? I'd love to hear, in the comments below.
The Environmental Triggers We Often Overlook
It’s easy to romanticise rural living as a cleaner, healthier lifestyle – and in many ways, it is. But stories like mine highlight how even the most idyllic settings can conceal environmental hazards. When it comes to adult-onset asthma, there’s increasing awareness around the role of air pollution, chemical exposure, and even naturally occurring allergens like mould and pollen. The motorway was an obvious offender – with its continuous stream of diesel exhaust and fine particulate matter – but what about the less visible factors?
Studies have shown that living near major roads is associated with increased risk of respiratory issues, including asthma, especially when exposure starts early in life. But adult-onset asthma is also increasingly being linked to long-term low-level exposure to pollutants. That layer of grime on my windows wasn’t just unpleasant – it was a visible sign of microscopic irritants entering my lungs every day.
What’s in the Air We Breathe?
The air in my former village may have smelled of manure and wheat dust, but it also likely carried fine particles from pesticides and fertilisers. These are easily airborne – especially on warm, breezy days – and are known to irritate the respiratory system. The strong, lingering smells I noticed weren’t just offensive to the nose; they were signals that airborne compounds had reached concentrations high enough to trigger inflammation. Breathing them in daily, without realising it, could well have been a contributor to my symptoms.
Diesel fumes, ammonia from fertiliser, and dust from ploughing are all inhalable irritants. Over time, they can sensitise the lungs – leading to a condition like asthma, even in adults with no prior history. These environmental stressors may not cause a sudden illness, but rather a slow erosion of respiratory health that only becomes noticeable once symptoms are severe enough to interfere with daily life.
Adult-Onset Asthma: More Common Than You Think
Contrary to popular belief, asthma isn’t just a childhood condition. Adult-onset asthma is surprisingly common, especially among women in their twenties and thirties. Hormonal changes, prolonged exposure to pollutants, stress, and even lifestyle shifts can all act as triggers. In many cases, it’s a combination of genetic predisposition and environmental insult that flips the switch.
What makes adult-onset asthma different is its presentation. The symptoms are often more persistent, harder to control, and frequently mistaken for something else – like a lingering cold or chronic fatigue. For me, it was a dry cough and constant wheezing that simply wouldn’t go away. It took a nurse’s trained ear to realise it was something more serious.
The Paleo Connection: Could Diet Help?
It’s no coincidence that my asthma disappeared around the same time I dramatically overhauled my lifestyle – including my diet. While it was an unintended side effect of a more serious health scare, it has made me wonder whether systemic inflammation had a role to play. Could the modern foods I used to eat have been adding fuel to the fire?
The Paleo diet is built around anti-inflammatory principles – removing common irritants like grains, dairy, and processed sugars. Many people who adopt this way of eating report improved respiratory health, fewer allergy symptoms, and better immune resilience overall. It’s anecdotal, yes – but when you experience these changes firsthand, it’s hard to dismiss.
Reducing the toxic load on the body – from food, air, and even household products – may not be a guaranteed cure, but it certainly gives your body a better chance to thrive. For those with asthma, whether child or adult-onset, it’s worth considering a holistic approach to management, alongside medical treatment.
Looking Back with Clearer Eyes
It’s strange to look back now, knowing what I do. What seemed like peaceful countryside living was more industrial than I realised – just in a different disguise. The motorway that never slept. The fields doused in chemicals. The reeking pile of ‘natural’ fertiliser that fed the tomatoes. It all paints a more complex picture of health and environment than I understood at the time.
Would I live there again, knowing what I know now? Possibly, but differently. I’d invest in an air purifier, keep the windows shut on spraying days, and perhaps grow my own veggies away from the path of the wind. More importantly, I’d listen to my body sooner – and question what my surroundings might be trying to tell me.
Have You Considered the Impact of Where You Live?
If you’ve ever experienced a health change after moving, or developed a chronic condition with no clear cause, take a moment to think about your environment. It’s easy to overlook the role of place in our health journeys – but sometimes the answers lie in the background noise, quite literally.
I’d love to hear your stories – whether you’ve dealt with adult-onset asthma, or noticed unexpected health shifts after a move. Leave a comment below and let’s compare notes. Maybe we can help each other see what we’ve been breathing all along.
* Several years later (long after I’d left the village) my asthma was instantly cured as a side effect of life-saving treatment I received in a completely unrelated incident.
