Kicking the Habit: The Best Investment I Ever Made

I threw my cigarettes to the wind — no stress, no gimmicks — and discovered something nobody tells you: quitting was far easier than I’d ever imagined.

By Fernando Wambier, based on the true story of Andrew S., Wayne, PA, USA

The Moment It Clicked

I’m 47, live just outside Philadelphia, and run a tax advisory firm with over twenty people on the team.
My job demands logic, strategy, and total control.
My personal life? A walking contradiction: up to 50 cigarettes a day.

I started at fourteen, and before long, a cigarette was welded into every moment of my day — first thing in the morning, after coffee, post-meeting, in the car.

Sure, I’d tried to quit. Dozens of times. Each attempt followed the same miserable pattern: anxious, cranky, sleepless… then relapse.

The turning point came in the most unexpected way: I overheard a colleague say to another, “You can see it in his eyes… he’s broken inside.”
That stung. In that moment, I realized I wasn’t just wrecking my lungs — I was undermining my leadership, my credibility, and the peace in my home.

This Time, All or Nothing

I told myself: Either do it properly now, or don’t even bother.
So I went to my doctor. No patches, no pills this time. Instead, we built a complete approach around three elements that ended up making all the difference:

• Group therapy
• Hypnosis
• Auriculotherapy

The Power of the Group

Group therapy was like going from rowing alone to sailing with a full crew. For eight weeks, I sat with people on the same mission: to quit without the horror of full-blown withdrawal.

We were brutally honest. We talked about the toughest moments, swapped tricks for dodging temptation, and celebrated every small win.
That group carried me through the rough patches — and taught me how to rebuild my habits, not just remove them.

Hypnosis: Switching Off Autopilot

I’ll admit, I was skeptical. Hypnosis sounded like stage shows and swinging pendulums.
But clinical hypnosis is different: deep focus, deep relaxation — and an open mind ready to rewrite old patterns.

My therapist helped me break the automatic smoking triggers:

• The coffee that had to come with a cigarette
• The post-meeting pause
• The stress spikes that sent me reaching for my lighter

It was like switching off the autopilot that had been steering me straight back to the pack for decades.

Auriculotherapy: Calming the System

Auriculotherapy — part of traditional Chinese medicine — treats the ear as a map of the whole body. Certain points are stimulated to calm the nervous system.

In my case, there were no needles, just tiny beads. In those first jittery days, it was worth its weight in gold. The cravings didn’t vanish completely, but they became so quiet that I could ignore them without a fight.

The Cut

The night before “Day Zero,” I cleared the battlefield: ashtrays, lighters, packs — gone.
The first morning without a cigarette was tough, but I walked into my group session smoke-free. I haven’t looked back since.

Two years later, I still have zero cravings, zero sense of missing out. I sleep better, think clearer, have more energy — and perhaps most importantly — I lead with more calm, focus, and credibility.

The Best Investment Ever

Quitting didn’t cost me millions or require miracles. But it gave me something priceless: freedom.
And that freedom comes with me everywhere — to the office, home, and into every single breath I take.

We didn’t quit smoking out of fear, but out of purpose
By Fernando Wambier – based on the testimony of Conchita and Manuel M. (Barcelona, Spain)

We are Conchita and Manuel, a couple and veterinarians in Barcelona. From the very beginning, we have tried to live in line with our values: healthy eating, staying close to nature, and practising a profession we see as a true calling. We believe in caring, supporting and preserving life. Yet there was something that didn’t fit with this harmony: we smoked.

We would light up between consultations, on the way to clients, or even while walking in the park. It was part of our daily life, a habit that seemed impossible to give up. And although we knew it was draining our health and energy, we couldn’t find a way out. We had tried cutting down, even stopping abruptly – but anxiety, emptiness and relapse always pulled us back. Silently, we carried a contradiction: promoting health, while jeopardising our own.

The turning point came quite unexpectedly – at a wedding in Portugal. There we met Jacinta, a psychologist who impressed us with her calm presence. She told us how she had quit smoking without stress or struggle – through yoga, relaxation and a profound mental shift. Her words were a trigger for us: she showed us that change didn’t have to mean sacrifice or punishment, but purpose.

It became clear: we didn’t smoke for pleasure, but out of routine, stress, and a need for control that was never truly satisfied. The cigarette was just a quick escape – but it left behind fatigue, inconsistency and frustration. What we needed was not more willpower, but something that could truly sustain us.

So we sought help – and found it with professional guidance. Part of the process included nicotine chewing gum, which carried us through critical moments. The gum releases small, controlled doses of nicotine, easing withdrawal symptoms and reducing the urge to smoke without the harmful effects of tobacco. For us, it was like a bridge in the first few weeks, until the pull of the cigarette began to fade. At the same time, we signed up for a yoga retreat in Asturias.

There, surrounded by mountains and silence, we discovered what we had been searching for: genuine calm. Yoga works by combining physical postures, breathing techniques and relaxation to reduce stress, balance the body, and improve mental clarity. We learnt to breathe more deeply, to manage anxiety through meditation, and to release tension on the mat. Instead of fighting against smoking, we built new, healthier routines.

And in the midst of this process, something even greater began to emerge. In long conversations, during walks and moments of silence, we revisited an old dream we had shelved for years: to create an animal shelter. Not just any shelter, but a place for those animals that had little to no chance elsewhere – the old, the sick, the abandoned, or those at the end of their lives. The idea of offering these beings protection and dignity had always been within us, but only now, freed from dependency, did we have the strength and clarity to pursue it seriously. Step by step, we started making concrete plans: we searched for suitable land, clarified legal matters, raised funds, and set up the first facilities. Every small achievement felt like a victory – not just for us, but for all the animals we could already picture in our minds.

This project quickly grew beyond a mere idea and became the heart of our new life. It was far more than a goal: it became our true substitute for smoking, and in fact an even stronger driving force. Everything we had once sought in cigarettes – a break, distraction from stress, a structure for the day – we now found in the work at the shelter. But here it was different, deeper: in every rescue, in every recovery, in the shining eyes of an animal learning to trust again. The shelter gave us not only meaning and motivation, but also a sense of balance and belonging. We realised we had never really missed the cigarettes – we had simply replaced them with something that made our lives richer and saved the lives of others.

Today, six years later, we are still smoke-free. We breathe more easily, have more energy, and live far more authentically. But above all, we cherish the sense of coherence: that what we think, say and do are now aligned.

And the change didn’t stop with us. It spread into our workplace as well. One of our team members decided to quit smoking – inspired by our story. We supported him and watched as he gradually regained energy and confidence. It confirmed an important truth for us: when someone receives encouragement and an example to follow, they gain health and commitment. And when an organisation supports such changes, its culture grows stronger and more humane.

For us, quitting smoking was not an act of fear or denial. It was an act of self-love, of coherence – and of purpose. And that is what continues to carry us today.

My worst patient was myself: the dentist who quit smoking
By Fernando Wambier – based on the testimony of Dr. Denise K. (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil)

I am a dentist and smoked for more than 20 years. I started at 16, almost as a social game, following older friends and without thinking too much about the consequences. At first, it was just a few cigarettes at parties or gatherings, but over time it slipped into my daily routine. First when I woke up, then between patients, after a stressful day, and later… at any time. Smoking became automatic. Even though I worked in healthcare, I lived it as something “normal”, almost invisible. Until it stopped being so.

No matter how much I tried to take care of myself, the smell of smoke filtered through my gloves and mask. I couldn’t hide it. Some patients noticed with an uncomfortable look, others with a joking comment, but everyone sensed it. And so did I: my teeth began to yellow, my skin looked duller, my breath changed, and my energy was no longer the same. That contradiction became unbearable: how could I talk about oral health and prevention while damaging myself? It was then, at 36, that I decided to quit smoking.

I tried on my own, again and again, but it was much harder than I thought. Withdrawal hit me strongly: irritability, anxiety, difficulty concentrating. I felt trapped in a cycle. The first thing that really helped me was the nicotine mouth spray. This time was different, because in previous attempts I had gone in without support, relying only on willpower, and always ended up giving in to anxiety. The spray changed the rules of the game: small, discreet, and releasing a precise dose of nicotine through the lining of the mouth. Its effect is almost immediate: it calms the urgent need to smoke in less than a minute, right at the moment when temptation feels stronger than yourself. I always carried it with me, in my coat pocket or handbag, like a personal lifeline. Using it gave me the security I needed to get through critical moments without relapsing. Knowing I had that tool at hand allowed me to resist impulses that once seemed invincible and, above all, made me feel that this time I wasn’t fighting blindly, but with a concrete and effective resource that kept me firm in my decision.

I also began to observe myself closely. I decided to record every cigarette I smoked: when, why, with whom, how I felt. I discovered something revealing: most of them were automatic, almost unconscious. I wasn’t smoking because I needed it, but because I associated it with everyday gestures: a coffee, a break between patients, a difficult phone call. That observation helped me anticipate the traps and change routines: I swapped coffee for tea, added short walks, learnt to take breaks without smoking, and avoided places where people smoke, where I knew the temptation would be stronger.

I spent my first smoke-free week away from the city, in a small hotel in the hills of Petrópolis, surrounded by greenery, mist and silence. It was close enough to Rio, but far from the noise of the world and all the distractions that pushed me towards the old habit. That improvised retreat gave me space to breathe. Amidst the tranquillity of the mountains, I was able to truly listen to myself and reaffirm my decision. It was not only a space to detox my body, but also to put my mind in order.

Five years have passed, and cigarettes have not returned to my life. Today I feel more coherent with my profession, more aligned with what I convey to my patients. I have more energy, self-esteem and clarity to work. Interestingly, the greatest impact was not only on me, but also on those around me. One of the clinic assistants, who had smoked since she was young, confessed that my process inspired her to try. I shared what had worked for me, encouraged her to use the spray, to observe her habits, and not to punish herself for setbacks. I accompanied her step by step… and today she has been smoke-free for more than a year.

That moment opened my eyes: quitting smoking is not only a personal decision. It is also an opportunity to influence those around us positively. Well-being is contagious. When someone takes the step, they inspire others – at home, at work, and in close relationships.

What helped me?
✔️ Observing my habits and writing down what I did automatically.
✔️ Replacing triggers, not just resisting them.
✔️ Asking for understanding at home and at work, instead of carrying it alone.
✔️ Using nicotine spray in urgent moments, without guilt.

If someone is thinking about quitting, there is no need to wait for the “perfect moment”. That moment rarely arrives. The best time is when the decision is made. And yes, it can be done.

The little dog that helped me give up smoking

By Fernando Wambier – based on the testimony of Dieter W. (Salzburg, Austria)

I never imagined that a simple notice on the staff board could change my life. I had been smoking for nearly fifty years. What began as a teenage attempt to look grown-up soon turned into a routine that stuck with me throughout my entire working life.

For over three decades I was head chef in a luxury hotel tucked away in the Austrian Alps. Picturesque as it was, the environment was also demanding: the pace in the kitchen was relentless, the pressure constant, and proper breaks were rare. In that setting, a cigarette felt like a legitimate pause, a tiny reward. Most of my colleagues smoked too, so it became part of our culture. Lighting up wasn’t just personal—it was almost a ritual of camaraderie. Smoking became automatic, woven into tension, relief and exhaustion alike.

I tried to give up many times. I promised myself “this will be the last packet”, experimented with different methods, even managed a few smoke-free days. But I always found an excuse: stress, habit, tiredness—or simply the pull of routine. Over time, however, cigarettes stopped bringing comfort. I would light one and feel no relief, only weariness. It wasn’t physical fatigue so much as emotional. Something inside me was starting to fracture.

One day, walking past the staff board, I noticed a sign. Management was offering a two-week programme, held right there in the hotel, for employees who wanted to stop smoking. My first reaction was scepticism. “After so many years, how on earth could a programme help me?” I thought. Still, something nudged me to sign up. It was almost a casual decision, made without much thought… yet it turned into the turning point of my life.

The group sessions were a revelation. There was no judgement, no finger-wagging. Instead, I found support, understanding and, most importantly, clear information. For the first time, I understood how my addiction actually worked and discovered practical tools to begin loosening its grip. I tried nicotine patches, which release nicotine slowly through the skin and calm the cravings. To my surprise, they worked far better than expected.

At the same time, I began making small changes that reconnected me with a healthier version of myself. I cut out alcohol completely, reduced coffee, drank more water, and started going for regular walks. Those strolls in the crisp Alpine air became a sanctuary where I rediscovered calm and presence. I realised that silence, fresh air and the steady rhythm of walking gave me what cigarettes no longer could: peace and balance.

And right in the middle of this process, almost by chance, a new ally appeared: a stubborn yet loyal little dachshund who came into my life at just the right moment. Taking him in was another of those apparently small decisions with a huge impact. Walking him every morning and evening not only cemented my new healthy habit but also gave me constant companionship. Without me planning it, this little dog became my true long-term substitute for cigarettes. Instead of reaching for a lighter, I had a lead in my hand—and a reminder that there are far more valuable things than smoke between one’s fingers.

I retired shortly after quitting, at 67. Today, at 73, I feel lighter, more creative and, above all, freer. I’ve regained physical and mental energy I thought had gone for good. I came to realise that giving up smoking wasn’t a heroic act or an epic struggle—it was simply a realistic decision, made just in time.

And it all began with something as ordinary as a workplace notice, pinned up in the very place where I had once normalised the habit.

Sometimes, all it takes is the right nudge at the right time—and a good companion, even a four-legged one.

I was gasping for air… and still I kept smoking

By Fernando Wambier – based on the testimony of Elizabeth G. (London, United Kingdom)

My name is Elizabeth. I’m 48 years old, I live in London and I work in the luxury property sector. I smoked for 34 years. Today, almost a year after putting out my last cigarette, I can say it with clarity and relief: quitting smoking saved my life. It also gave me back something I thought I’d lost forever – peace with myself.

I lit my first cigarette at the age of 14. Back then it felt daring, almost glamorous – a secret passport into adulthood. The smoke was harsh, it made me cough, but it also made me feel part of a world I longed to join. What began as an experiment quickly became a thread in the fabric of my life. Over the decades, smoking was always there: in moments of celebration and in moments of despair, during lonely evenings and tense business negotiations. It was my constant companion, my excuse to step away, my shield against pressure. I convinced myself it gave me strength, that it helped me think more clearly. In truth, it drained my energy, stole my breath and quietly eroded my confidence.

I tried to stop countless times. I tried patches, hypnosis, meditation, nicotine gum – each attempt carried the hope that this time I would finally be free. But sooner or later I went back. Cigarettes followed me like a shadow, always close, always waiting. With every relapse came guilt, shame and the growing sense that I was a prisoner of something I could no longer control.

The breaking point came in Mallorca. One evening, exhausted after weeks of long hours, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a crushing tightness in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. In A&E, with an oxygen mask strapped to my face, fear consumed me. The doctor was blunt: “If you continue smoking, you don’t have much time left.” His words hit me harder than any blow. I wanted to live. Yet, only days later, I lit another cigarette. That was perhaps the lowest moment of all – realising that not even the fear of dying had been enough to stop me. I smoked with anger, with guilt, knowing exactly what I was doing to myself, and still unable to resist.

Back in London, I knew I couldn’t go on this way. I needed help. My doctor prescribed bupropion and, more importantly, explained something I had never understood: smoking wasn’t simply a bad habit, it was an addiction that had rewired my brain. It wasn’t about being weak or lacking willpower – it was about recognising that I needed real, structured support. That understanding lifted an enormous weight. For the first time, I felt there was a way forward.

On the eighth day of treatment, I smoked what would be my last cigarette. There was no ceremony, no tears, no dramatic farewell. Just a quiet moment of certainty: it was over. The medication had dulled the compulsion enough for me to make a choice. And this time, I chose freedom.

I also joined a support group, and that proved invaluable. Listening to others, sharing my own story, laughing at the similarities in our struggles – it reminded me I wasn’t alone. That sense of solidarity gave me strength on the days when temptation whispered in my ear.

The first weeks, which I had dreaded as a living hell, turned out to be surprisingly calm. I began walking more, returned to yoga and paid attention to what I ate. Each breath felt like a small victory, each day without cigarettes like a quiet triumph. The stress of daily life didn’t vanish, of course, but it no longer ruled me. I learned that I could sit with my nerves, face my challenges and breathe through the storm – without reaching for a lighter.

The difference at work was striking. I had more patience with clients, sharper focus in meetings, greater clarity in decision-making. For the first time in years, I was fully present – not distracted by the constant calculation of when I could escape for a smoke. That presence, that renewed energy, was noticed by everyone around me. My work improved, but so did my relationships.

Now, almost a year later, I haven’t suffered another asthma attack. I wake up without that dry, nagging cough that once greeted me every morning. I enjoy my coffee without the desperate urge to light up beside it. Most of all, I no longer feel that tobacco is stronger than me. Smoking took 34 years of my life – it will take no more.

Quitting wasn’t just about putting out a cigarette. It was about breaking a prison, ending a pact with something that had been quietly killing me. It was about reclaiming my body, my time, my voice. Today, when I look in the mirror, I see a woman who is free. And I know now that true strength was never in lighting up again to carry on, but in daring to put it out – for good.