It is interesting to me to think about how many people enjoy smoking tobacco. Particularly because I am one of them.

My earliest, best memories of this lifetime are sitting on my grandpa's lap when I was about 3 years old, feeling safe and deeply loved...and smelling the wondrous rich scent of the cigarettes he smoked.

Going over to his house or office was for me, knowing I was going to be greeted with pure, great joy from him in seeing me. If ever I felt and knew I was loved, it was in his presence. And his presence was accompanied with the lovely scent of his old-fashioned aftershave and tobacco smoke.

It's tempting to think that I was conditioned to like tobacco smoke because I was strongly rewarded around the scent of it. And I won't argue that this colored my view. There are other things about smoking that are alluring to me, too. But "why" doesn't matter to me anyway.

My mom and majority of relatives didn't approve of smoking. And if anything conditioned me, this did more so, because I thought of smoking as bad/wrong basically, because they said so, and the looks on their faces as they crinkled their noses in disgust was pretty convincing. So I had no intention or desire toward smoking a cigarette growing up. I still liked the smell of it in some of my loved one's homes who smoked, but it just didn't translate to me doing the smoking.

It was when I became 16 and I took that big step toward independence of driving that it first occurred to me that I might try a cigarette. And even then, it was because of the rebelliousness I attached to the act. I only vaguely remember how it all started, but I do remember that I did it out of angry rebellion, not fondness, reverie, or curiosity even. Someone offered me a cigarette and I took it. I felt a thrill in knowing I was now breaking a "rule".

I only remember that with a group of rule-breaking girls, I continued to take cigarettes offered to me and that at some point I began inhaling them more and more and buying packs myself. I also remember having a job and then finally getting a break or finishing my shift and wanting a cigarette and then noticing the high it gave me after having had a long period of time since the one before. This led to me looking for that high.

For fifteen years I smoked about 10 cigarettes a day. I really couldn't handle much more without my lungs feeling taxed. Throughout these years I experienced the social rule changes from being allowed to smoke at your desk, to only in the break room, and then, to only outside the building.

I couldn't fathom easily quitting. But when I got married and decided to get pregnant, I thought I'd better quit. I wanted to be a perfect vessel for my baby. Society said good mothers don't smoke. So I stopped. I recall being very bitter about seeing other people smoke for a short period of time, and I had the urge to pick up butts discarded by others that still had some tobacco stem left. But I persevered and as the years passed by, I identified with being a non-smoker. Still, quite often when I saw people smoking, I remembered how much I enjoyed it and I think I wished I was still enjoying it. (But I had blocks up against these thoughts, so, that's why I say "I think I wished").

Twelve years later I happened upon a full packet of cigarettes that must have fallen from someone's car or purse in an underground parking garage. I picked them up and put them in my purse. I thought about them for days deciding when might be the right time to try cigarettes again, or even if I should. I had put up many successful barriers against my desire, so now there was some confusion going on beneath the surface of my consciousness. Concepts of how bad cigarettes are (everyone says so), mixed with concepts of love, nurturing, relaxation, rebellion and empowerment.

To Be Continued

I can honestly say that I'm probably one of the few people that started smoking because I needed something to get through some of the stress of negativity during my teenage years and then through some of the normal stresses of my adult years... I have to admit, I really did enjoy it.
Cigarettes were a friend who never let me down. A warm hug waiting only a flick of a bic and a smoking area away from my reach.
And then a year ago, after over 30 years of smoking, both my husband and I decided to quit and never looked back. There are times we speak of missing it, but I doubt we ever go back to smoking. Quitting smoking was one of the most freeing things I've ever done.
Not having to stop whatever I'm doing and answer to the craving is awesome.
There's a few things that aided in our success of quitting: a couple of them are that we were each others support partner and we always spoke openly and freely about when a craving hit us. Or when we were upset and just wanted to take a cigarette break to clear our heads. Together we stood strong.
I could go on and on. But I'll stop for now.
I wish you luck in your decisions Alisa, I know you'll make the right one that's best for you.
Great post.
There's much food for thought in your narrative.
:yeah: