I quit smoking 12 weeks ago and I feel god damn proud!
I secretly thought I was doomed to smell and taste of ash forever. No, I had no faith in myself and resigned to the fact, that I would always come with my cigarette baggage.
Emma plus one…
I hated going to new places if I observed the dreaded ‘No smoking’ sign. I simply became controlled by my addiction. Ruled by a cigarette.
My significant other spent many a time trying to convince me to quit. I confess, I listened with half an ear, then lit up a fresh wad of cash. It simply wasn’t to be. Or so I thought.
We can only change when we change how we perceive things. I was allowing my perspective on smoking to cloud my autonomy. I conditioned myself to believe that this small tobacco stick actually had a voice. That it actually had control.
Yes, it sounds bizarre. Yet we continue to let our anxieties and fears ‘own’ us.
On ‘quit day’ I took back the reigns.
12 weeks later? I remain happy, richer, healthier, and safe in the continued knowledge that ‘I’ am my own captain.
It feels fucking amazing ☆
The mind of a deep thinker…or complete rubbish…it is all down to interpretation and perception…