The smoking point

Being born into Gen X, I’ve always felt like we were an in-between generation—the glue between two very different worlds. We grew up with a foot in old-school thinking and another stepping into what came next. Smoking was part of that world.

I started smoking when I was about sixteen. Probably too young, but at the time it was still acceptable. I remember when smoking indoors was normal, when showing ID wasn’t automatic, when a lot of the rules we take for granted now didn’t exist yet. I honestly don’t even remember why I started. It was likely just what you did. It was “cool.” And then, slowly, it became an addiction.

Over the years, I tried to quit more than once. Like most smokers—or ex-smokers—will tell you, being told to stop doesn’t really work. It only sticks when you want to stop. I’d quit, then fall back into it, especially when I worked in environments where a lot of people smoked. It was easy to slide right back.

The turning point came when I was working for a healthcare IT company in Southern California in the early 2000s. I had just started, and I was one of maybe three people who went out for smoke breaks. I was clearly in the minority. Southern California was its own microcosm—progressive, health-conscious, and already moving on from smoking culture.

What struck me wasn’t pressure. I’d been pressured before and hadn’t quit. It was more subtle than that. I remember thinking: I work for a healthcare company, and I smoke. It didn’t feel aligned. It didn’t feel right. It wasn’t “sexy,” for lack of a better word. And for the first time, I really saw myself from the outside.

Looking back now, I can see there were plenty of signs before that. I knew smoking was bad for me. The research was becoming clearer. I’d get short of breath easily, huffing and puffing. I coughed a lot. As a kid, I had bronchial asthma, so that hacking cough could get genuinely concerning at times.

I wasn’t a heavy smoker, but I was a smoker. And I think it was a combination of things—the changing social norms, my career, what I already knew about my health—that finally brought me to a place where quitting felt natural. It was just time.

That was many moons ago now. I quit, and I never looked back.

In hindsight, I think this experience made me more sensitive to early warning signs—the ones I ignored before. Not just with smoking, but with other lifestyle choices too. When you notice friction—when something feels off and you start discounting it—that’s usually worth paying attention to. You don’t necessarily need to change direction immediately, but you should at least get curious about why you’re ignoring it. Is it convenience? Avoidance? The fact that dealing with it would be hard?

That friction is information.

I don’t regret quitting smoking for a second. It’s been about twenty-five years now, smoke-free. I’ve had other health challenges since—that’s why this blog exists—but smoking would have only made everything worse. It would have compounded problems I’m now trying to understand and fix.

So if there’s a vice in your life that’s quietly asking for a second look, it’s probably worth giving it some attention. Not with judgment—just honesty. Sometimes that’s all it takes to find your own smoking point.