Loving Myself Enough To Quit: A Journey of Self Worth and Radical Self Acceptance

I started vaping just before I turned 18. At first, it was purely social — something I’d only do with friends, never on my own. But as time went on, between university and working in the events industry, my nicotine use spiraled.

At the very first festival I worked at, I brought a watermelon IVG vape and kept it in my backpack in my tent. That weekend, it poured with rain, and we found out the hard way our tent wasn’t waterproof anymore. My bag got soaked, the vape leaked over all my clothes. That was four years ago, and even now, no matter how many times I’ve washed them, some of those t-shirts that were in my bag still smell faintly of sickly sweet watermelon. The scent of the start of an addiction.

Fast forward a few years — I was working an event in London and had to take an overnight coach with no stops. I dreaded it. I needed something I could use without breaking the law, so I found Velos: nicotine pouches, smokeless, flavoured, discreet. Perfect, or so I thought. The first one burned my lip so badly I spat it out in panic. I nearly gave up on them — but against my better judgment, I kept going.

Soon, they completely replaced vaping. One tin every twelve days became three tins a week. Sixty pouches. One in, one out, barely pausing between.

Then in October 2024, I met my partner — a non-smoker who isn’t afraid to call things as they are. Over six months, he kept gently nudging me to look at my addiction. I always had a new excuse: “I’m doing this for me. I need it to cope. It’s not that bad.” He, thankfully, never bought any of it. Finally, in May, we had a heart-to-heart. He called me what I was: an addict. And while that little voice in my head wanted to deny it, another part knew he was right.

We call that little voice in my head “the gremlin” — the one that whispered, just one more hit, you can’t function without it. But somehow, I managed to silence it. On June 21st, 2025, I quit. Cold turkey.

The first week was the hardest. The quitters’ flu hit me like a tonne of bricks and I hated it. The cravings, the mood swings, the snapping. I told my mother I was quitting, and she replied angrily that I had important things on in the next two weeks, and that I should’ve waited until it was all over. She called me selfish, dramatic, and tried her best to get me to give up my quit. Despite her frustration, I persisted. If I didn’t quit now, I’d be waiting forever for the perfect time to never arrive.

My partner bore most of the load, right through to the third week when things finally started to ease. He never once told me to calm down, never told me I was being over the top. He just told me he was proud. He knew how difficult this decision was for me to make, and he knew the mood swings and irritation weren’t really me — they were the gremlin, screaming for someone to feed it.

Since then, the gremlin’s faded. And now that it’s gone, I see just how much of my life nicotine controlled. For the few years I used nicotine, I was barely present in my own day to day life. Everything revolved around when I was getting another hit, how I was getting it, and if I had enough to last me for the week. Nothing else mattered nearly as much as nicotine did.

Now, my relationships are healthier, I am more patient, less anxious, more present. I’m finally listening to myself and my body, and for the first time in years I’m giving myself the chance to just be me — something my younger self didn’t even realise they were unable to do with the cloud of chemicals they were constantly enveloped in.

When I look back, I feel for that teenager who was just trying to escape, who let nicotine sink its hooks in because they didn’t know their own worth. I’m lucky now to have people who remind me of the good in myself. And though I still have a long way to go, I finally love myself enough to say no.

So here’s what I want to leave you with:

Love yourself radically.
Love yourself enough to quit even when it feels impossible.
Love yourself enough to quit when everything else is falling apart.
Love yourself enough to quit when you’ve hit rock bottom.

Because no matter what you think of yourself, you are worth infinitely more than your addiction. If you don’t believe that yet, borrow the belief from this community. Every single person on the KTC forums and in the discord believes that you are worth the quit. They showed me that even on the hardest days, I wasn’t alone. If they could do it, I can too — and now if I can do it, so can you.

My name is Ribbons, I am an addict, and today I am one hundred days free of nicotine.

NOTE: This piece written by KillTheCan.org member Ribbons