By Allyssa Morgan

I was 16 the first time I hit a vape.

It wasn’t a dramatic moment, it was casual. Normal. Everyone around me was doing it—before cheer practice, after school, at lunch. It looked fun. It looked cool. And I wanted in.

I was driving to school, just me in the car, music playing low. I grabbed my vape off the console and hit it at a red light. Not because I needed it—just because I could. No one else was around to stop me, and it was part of my routine. I’d take a few hits on the way there, blow the vapor out the window, then toss it back in the cup holder like it was nothing.

It was how I started most days. Wake up, get dressed, hit my vape. Drive to school, hit the vape. It didn’t even feel like a choice anymore. It was just something I did.

At the time, I didn’t think I was choosing a habit. I thought it was just a fun thing to try, never knowing the real consequences that would later cause me anxiety and a seven-year addiction.

Now I’m almost 24, and quitting vaping has been one of the hardest things I’ve done. Not because I didn’t want to, but because vaping had quietly woven itself into my life.

When I woke up, I’d roll over and take a hit. I’d hit it in the car, on the way to class. Again while doing homework. After eating. When I was bored. When I was anxious. When I was celebrating. It became background noise in my life—always there, always easy, always just one hit away.

I tried quitting more times than I can count—cold turkey, gum, mints, keeping my hands busy—but nothing stuck.

Vaping as a Generation’s Default

I’m not alone in this. According to the CDC, nearly 14% of high school students reported vaping in 2023, down from its peak in 2019, which is when I graduated high school.

Back then 27.5% of high school students reported vaping.

That’s a big drop. A win, maybe. But for those of us who got hooked early, the struggle hasn’t disappeared.

The CDC lists the reasons “E-cigarette marketing, the availability of flavored products, social influences, and the effects of nicotine can influence youth to start or continue vaping.” And that’s exactly what happened. It was everywhere—at school, in our friend groups, and all over our snapchat stories and finstas.

What’s more concerning is the emotional, physical, and social grip it has on people my age, most of whom didn’t realize they were signing up for a long-term relationship when they first picked up a vape.

The Ones Who Got Hooked

Derek Colson 22, was a sophomore at Union High School also started vaping at 16, shared a similar story. “It was never peer pressure,” Derek said. “I just thought it was cool. It was like what cigarettes were in the ’80s.”

What started as a zero-nicotine vape for party tricks turned into a full-blown dependency on high-nicotine disposable vapes. The effects crept in—shortness of breath on the lacrosse field, cravings at leadership retreats, guilt from hiding his vape from his parents.

For Hannah Garvey 24, quitting came earlier and a bit easier. “My older sister said, ‘You don’t even know what’s in that. You’re inhaling chemicals.’ And it just clicked.” She walked away at 19, going cold turkey. But even now, years later, people still hand her vapes at parties. “It’s like people forget not everyone vapes.”

Luke Herndon 25, living in Tulsa was just 14 when he started vaping as a freshman in high school. “I wanted to be a rebel,” he said.

Luke quit for six months during basic training for the military. “I had no choice,” he said. “You can’t vape in basic.” Since then, he’s picked it back up and says he experiences regular cravings and coughing but doesn’t feel ready to quit again.

Vape shops near my high school would offer student discounts, like they knew exactly who they were targeting. Offering a percentage off to students. I went into my old go-to vape shop to see what they thought about it, but they declined to comment.

The Normalization of Addiction

If there’s one word that defines Gen Z’s relationship with vaping, it’s normalized.

“It’s like smoking now,” Hannah said. “People know it’s bad, but they do it anyway.”

Luke sees it from the inside since he still vapes “When I have a craving, I just vape.” In his world, vaping has become a default behavior, not a decision.

Derek said he thinks “It’s worse than cigarettes ever were.”

Maybe that’s true because, unlike cigarettes, vaping comes in different fruity flavors, which, in my opinion, are more appealing than tobacco. We were marketed to like a lifestyle, not a substance. And it worked, and it still has an effect today.

The Reality

For me, the side effects started subtly. I was a all-star cheerleader, always moving, always training. But then I noticed I couldn’t keep up like I used to. Tumbling? I’d be winded. Hitting a routine? My endurance had dropped. I had been vaping for a couple months when I noticed I wasn’t gaining new skills like I used too.

Then I noticed something else, over the last year, vaping stopped calming my anxiety and started making it worse. My cravings came hardest when I was doing nothing—scrolling, sitting, waiting. For a while, I didn’t realize I was using it as much as I was. After a while, I started to feel sick when I would hit my vape. I wanted to quit so bad just honestly didn’t think I could do it. I have an addiction.

I remember during the 2020 pandemic lockdown I thought I had my chance. No one was going anywhere, and I had run out of pods. It drove me crazy; I felt like I couldn’t focus on anything else. I was irritable. It didn’t help that I was stuck at home with nothing to distract me, but I ended up caving within 48 hours. I had my dad get me pods because Trump had changed the smoking age to 21 eight months after I turned 18. I felt defeated. It was emotionally exhausting. I continued vaping for another four years.

Then that all changed this time around, my first day without vaping this time wasn’t as brutal. I slowly started using my vape less and less and tried to replace it with Zyns. It made the process so much easier. After a couple of days, I didn’t even want to hit my vape anymore, and I threw it in the trash. That was such a relief.

Now two years vape-free, Derek still uses Zyns. “I have asthma,” he said. “I had to quit vaping for my lungs. I breathe better now.”

It’s still hard. it isn’t the same when I go out to bars or just sitting at home. I had a moment recently that was honestly one of the hardest when I was in New York for a bachelorette trip.

We were at a club and one of the girls had a vape and I briefly thought two glasses of champagne in “What about just one hit?” Then something in me paused.

Just one to take the edge off. Just one to feel that quick, buzzy calm I used to chase.

I turned away. Pretended I didn’t care. But I did.

And that’s when I realized—it’s going to take longer than I thought for this feeling to go away. That craving to belong, to settle, to soothe something I haven’t totally named yet. I’m not just detoxing from nicotine. I’m detoxing from a version of myself I clung to for seven years.

My Reflection

It’s a Sunday night in April after a long wedding day. I have a 3-hour drive ahead of me. The highway stretches ahead, dark and quiet except for the glow of my headlights. It’s late, too late, but I’ve done this drive before. Oklahoma City to Fayetteville, just me, the road, and a playlist I put on to keep my mind busy. No vape this time. No disposable in the cupholder. Instead, I chew a piece of gum, take a sip of Dr. Pepper to keep me awake, and try to keep my hands moving so they don’t reach for something that isn’t there.

For seven years, this drive would have looked different. A vape was always within reach, almost continuously being the thing I’d do when I got bored. This is my first long drive without it. The habit was as much a part of my routine as turning on my GPS or adjusting the volume. Now, the gaps feel noticeable—empty in a way I wasn’t expecting. I don’t really know how to describe the feeling of withdrawal other than my mind is constantly fixated on nicotine unless I am distracted by something else. I noticed the cravings for sure, but this empty feeling I haven’t noticed until this drive.

It’s been over a month now at this point. It doesn’t sound like a long time, but it feels different. I don’t wake up reaching for it anymore. Which is a huge relief I think that was one of my wake up calls was the fact as soon as I woke up every day I was reaching for something toxic. Not anything that would be beneficial to start your day. The habit itself and the routine is hard to shake.

I started at 16 without thinking much about it. It was just something to do—between classes, after work, on long drives like this. Now, without it, those moments feel different. Longer, quieter. Like I have a voice in my head constantly reminding me I have an addiction. I’m still getting used to it.

I turn up the volume, take another deep breath, and pop another piece of gum in my mouth. It doesn’t hit the same as a vape would.

Research

Vaping is designed to be addictive. According to a New York Times article, JUUL pods have a nicotine level of 5 percent, which is the equivalent of a pack of cigarettes, and the delivery system hits the brain fast.

In the JUUL class action law suit “The Lawsuit alleges that Plaintiffs paid more for JUUL products than they otherwise would have paid if accurate information concerning the products’ addictiveness and safety had been provided. The Lawsuit also alleges that JUUL products were unlawfully marketed to minors. The Defendants deny these allegations and assert that they did not violate any law.”

JUUL was the most common vaping product everyone was using when vaping became “popular,” the flavors cool mint, and mango were the flavors everyone wanted. None of us understood the amount of nicotine we were inhaling and I remember going through these pods so quickly because they were so small and addictive.

According to the National Library of Medicine “The pharmacologic reasons for nicotine use are enhancement of mood, either directly or through relief of withdrawal symptoms, and augmentation of mental or physical functions.”

I really did think at first it was calming my anxiety. I used to take Lexapro sophomore year and stopped taking it once I started vaping thinking. I didn’t need it anymore. But later on I started getting more anxiety because of it. Im assuming I had some placebo effect or maybe because I had vaped for so long I didn’t even get a nicotine buzz/high anymore.

The Cost We Didn’t See Coming

The amount of money I’ve spent on feeding an addiction was insane. I used to spend about $25 every 2 weeks or so on disposable vapes without even blinking. If you add that up over a year, that’s $600; over 7 years, that’s almost $4,200.

Luke said he spends even more, at about $100 a week, to fuel a bad addiction, and urges youth not to start because of the cost alone.

Looking Ahead

Zyns have been the most common alternative to vaping that I’ve seen, and honestly, they’ve helped me the most. We still don’t fully know the long-term side effects, and I’m aware of that. But in my mind, it felt like a better option than constantly inhaling nicotine into my lungs. Whether that’s true or not, I guess time will tell.

The research I did find from Johns Hopkins behavioral pharmacologist Tory Spindle he says, “Sold in 3 mg and 6 mg doses, the pouches deliver nicotine directly into the bloodstream through the mouth’s membrane lining, rather than through the lungs. In many ways, the pouches are safer than other nicotine products on the market because they do not use tobacco leaves and therefore have fewer carcinogens. But they are not risk-free.”

I’ve noticed I don’t reach for Zyns nearly as often as I used to vape, and I can go longer between uses. To be honest, they were tough to get used to at first—the burning sensation was pretty intense. I had the same issue with nicotine gum and mints.

I still use Zyns, and I won’t pretend I’ve got it all figured out.

But I’m working on it. The biggest milestone so far? It’s been almost two months since I’ve used a vape, and I already feel the difference. I don’t think about it as much anymore. I don’t feel like I need it with me every time I leave the house.

There was a time I’d grab my vape before my wallet or my phone. Now, I’m learning to live without it—slowly and intentionally. I hope to quit nicotine completely someday.

Because addiction is sneaky. It rarely feels like a choice. But healing can be.

And I’m choosing that—one less craving at a time.