I smoked my first cigarette at 13. I’m 32 now, and today is day 150 without nicotine. I still can’t quite believe I’m writing that.
For 19 years I was sure the problem was the product. Cigarettes, then snus, then vapes, then IQOS, then hookah, then cigarillos. Every time I was sure I was leaving the problem behind. It was never the product, it was the nicotine. That’s how long it took me to get it.
It started after school, and honestly it felt like an adventure. I had it under control, obviously. I could stop whenever I wanted. Maybe six months in, my mom caught me. No yelling. She just calmly asked me to stop. I promised her, and I really thought it would be easy.
The next morning I found out what kind of beast nicotine is.
I lasted a few days. Then a friend held out a cigarette and I took it. I didn’t even tell him I’d quit.
By 15 I had my own pack, every day. Almost everyone around me smoked. I’d look at adults who’d been at it for 20, 30 years and think, that is never going to be me. One more year, two tops, and I’ll just stop. At 18 we counted the days until we could buy cigarettes anywhere and smoke without hiding. I already had four or five years behind me, and some part of me was bothered by it, so I made myself a deal: a couple more years, then I quit. After that, smoking turned into background noise. I stopped counting.
At 20 the first e-cigarettes showed up, the metal ones you refill from a little bottle. I switched completely for a year and felt like I’d beaten it. See? I can quit whenever I want. It didn’t occur to me that it was the same nicotine in a different shape. Then came the heartburn, and liquid in my mouth, and I was back on cigarettes.
At 23 it finally hit me. Ten years. Ten! I never planned that. How is it already ten years? So I came up with a genius plan: switch to snus, drop the cigarettes, then drop the snus. Easy. It didn’t last. Whenever I talked to someone with that thing in my lip, I felt like everyone was staring at it. Back to cigarettes.
At 25 I started to feel ashamed. Young, in good shape, and here I was wrecking it. I began hiding when I smoked. Some people I know still think I’ve never smoked in my life, which is kind of funny now.
Then IQOS, at 27. I honestly believed it was harmless, so I smoked about twice as much as before. Two years later my heart started racing out of nowhere and my blood pressure went up. And I do sports. I was angry. At myself, mostly, at how deep I’d let it go. Then one day I dropped the IQOS in the toilet, looked at it, and thought: okay. That’s a sign. I never touched it again.
At 29, disposable vapes instead of cigarettes. Half a year later it was the heartburn again, the racing heart, that feeling like my whole body was soaked in chemicals.
That same year I had to take a month of antibiotics, which meant no alcohol. I hadn’t gone that long without a drink in 12 years. About two weeks in, something just clicked: I don’t need this anymore. I’m in my fourth year sober now. A month later I did the same thing with nicotine, and it worked. Mineral water, Chinese tea, I was so happy. I was sure it was over for good.
Around month three, my girlfriend suggested hookah one evening. I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t know hookah has nicotine in it. Once a week became every few days, then almost every evening, then me alone after work with my laptop. When I finally did the math it was 400 euro a month. And I realized I’d been a smoker again since that very first evening.
It was annoying, funny and shameful all at once. I’d walked back into the trap on my own two feet. So I stopped lying to myself and went back to cigarettes. Cigarillos this time, Al Capone Flame, 8 to 10 a day.
And then it was 2026, 19 years since that first cigarette. The number shocked me. For half a year, almost every time I took one out, the same voice: hey man, you remember you need to quit, right? So when? I hated it. A grown man who knows exactly what’s going on, and I couldn’t take one step.
My birthday is in May. I was turning 32, and I made myself one promise: smoke as much as you want, but before May 31st you take that step. And I did. I put out the last cigarette and told myself, I don’t need nicotine anymore. No cigarettes, no snus, nothing. I’m free. I knew the next days would be hard. There was no way back.
I was home alone for those first days, my girlfriend at work. Just me and the nicotine monster, one on one. I still remember that fight. Physically it was really hard. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t get into a video or a game, my head kept throwing me back out. And the loneliness was the worst part. I just wanted someone to talk to.
On the first morning I tried to download a quit tracker. The first one was too basic. The next two asked me to subscribe right after onboarding. It felt wrong: someone offers you a hand and in the same second shows you a payment screen. (There’s now an honest comparison of apps like these on this blog.) So I opened my notes and started writing down what I would need right then. Something for when you feel alone. A quick way through a craving. A way to see my wins. It was the first thing that actually pulled me out of a craving.
On day 3 I decided: I’m not just someone who quit. I’m fighting nicotine now. And I’d build that app myself and make it free for everyone. That’s how NiQuit started.
Today it’s 150 days and 722 euro saved. I’m as sure about nicotine as I am about alcohol. It’s done. And I’m happy.
If I could tell 13-year-old me, or 23-year-old me, one thing, it would be this: it was never about cigarettes, or snus, or vapes. Every switch was the same trap in a new shape. (If you want the science behind that, it’s the same molecule every time.)
If you’re on day 1 or day 4 right now, reading this: you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last on this road. Don’t give up. And if you’re in the first days, here’s how to get through the first 72 hours.
Nicotine. Case closed.