“I used to joke that my handbag was basically a portable vape shop. Three kids, a busy house, constant noise—and somehow, those little devices became my “pause button.” A quick inhale between school runs, another while stirring pasta, one more before bed. It felt harmless enough… until I actually added it up.

One evening, after snapping at the kids over something ridiculous, I sat at the kitchen table scrolling through my banking app. Vape shop, convenience store, online orders—it was all there. I did the maths properly for the first time, and my stomach dropped. Hundreds each month. Thousands a year. For something that wasn’t even helping anymore.

That night, lying in bed, I noticed how tight my chest felt. Not dramatic, just… off. And for the first time, I didn’t brush it aside.

A friend had mentioned hypnotherapy months earlier. I’d smiled politely at the time, filed it under “not for me,” and carried on. But now, tired and a bit shaken, I found myself looking it up again. Something about it felt different this time—less like a gimmick, more like a reset button I actually needed.

I didn’t expect much from the first session. I thought I’d either feel silly or fall asleep. Instead, I felt… focused. Calm in a way I hadn’t been for years. It wasn’t about being “controlled” or anything strange—it was like someone had turned down the background noise in my head and let me actually listen to myself.

I realised I hadn’t been vaping because I enjoyed it. I’d been doing it automatically. Habit. Stress. A kind of placeholder for a break I never really took.

Over the next few sessions, something shifted. Cravings didn’t disappear overnight, but they lost their grip. I started noticing them instead of obeying them. That alone felt like a win.

And then, one day, I just… didn’t pick up the vape.

No big ceremony. No dramatic declaration. Just a quiet, unexpected moment where I realised I didn’t need it.

The changes crept in gently after that. My mornings felt clearer. I wasn’t rushing outside for a quick fix between school drop-offs. I had more patience—real patience—with the kids. Even the chaos felt more manageable.

But the biggest shock? The money.

At the end of the first vape-free month, I checked my account again. It was like someone had quietly given me a pay rise. We went out for a proper family day—no guilt, no mental calculations. Just ice creams, laughter, and the kind of ease I hadn’t realised I’d been missing.

Now, when I think about those old habits, it doesn’t feel like I’ve “given something up.” It feels like I’ve got something back.

Time. Health. Headspace. And, surprisingly… quite a lot of money.

Turns out, my real pause button wasn’t in my handbag after all. It was in learning how to actually stop—and breathe.”

(Could this be you?)