Setting Yourself Free

At one time, I was addicted to smoking cigarettes. I grew up with the smell of smoke in the air. All the men in my life; my grandpa, uncles, oldest brother and dad smoked. Whether cigars, a pipe, Winston, or Salem tobacco smoke surrounded me.  

In the evenings after dinner, Dad would casually leave the kitchen and the cacophony of his family and stroll out to the front porch. Since I was too young to be missed by anyone, I’d follow him.

On the front porch swing I’d find my way onto his lap. Then, he’d light a Salem cigarette. When he blew out the smoke, it was as if he was blowing away all the cares of his day. 

I loved the smell of cigarette smoke or was it that I loved sitting with my dad on the front porch swing? 

I was twelve when I bought my first pack of cigarettes. I walked into a gas station with three quarters in my sweaty palm, plugged them into the cigarette machine and pulled the lever.  I swooped up the package of Marlboros and left the gas station before the attendant noticed I’d committed a crime. 

Then, I sat down in the park across the street and smoked my first cigarette. It was not love at first inhale, but the smell of cigarette smoke reminded me of my dad. By then, he was almost gone from my life. 

In high school, I had enough time in-between classes to smoke a cigarette outside along with all the other delinquents. I’d tried smoking in the bathroom, but that cost me a visit to the principal’s office. 

I remember once I smoked in front of my grandma. It was a totally boastful and arrogant moment. 

We sat on her front porch swing. I wanted to shock Grandma. I wanted to show her that I was a liberated woman. I wanted to prove to her that women didn’t have to be ashamed of anything, including blowing smoke. 

Grandma was not shocked. The only thing she said was that smoking was a dirty habit, a habit that already had me in its clutches. 

I told her that I was free to quit anytime I wanted.

Years later, when I tried to quit, those cigarettes had me in their grip, just like Grandma said. 

Mark Twain once said, “Giving up smoking is the easiest thing in the world. I know because I’ve done it thousands of times.” He was right. It took a few attempts before I finally quit for good.

Addiction is giving ourselves over to a bad habit. Addiction is becoming unduly dependent upon something harmful. Addiction is allowing something else to take control of us.

It is subtle slavery, but real. 

Why Bother?

Why bother setting yourself free? Setting ourselves free from the grip of a bad habit  is much better than allowing the bad habit to hold us in its grip.