It is not.
It is a story about how habits truly start. About identity.
About belonging. About freedom. And about responsibility. And more importantly,
about how one small, seemingly innocent moment can quietly influence the course
of your life.
I need to rewind this story slightly.
At fourteen, I had just moved from Nanyuki. Nanyuki was
gentle, quiet, and homely; a town that moved at its own pace. It had a more
National Geographic vibe. And I loved it.
It was the kind of place where you learned to enjoy your own
company. Where friendships weren't intense, loud, or invasive. Where people
knew part of you, not all of you, and no one hurried you to share the rest.
There was no rush.
Then I was suddenly transplanted into the city. Lights. Movement.
Noise. Speed. Urgency. Everything dazzled. And I got lost in the daze, in
the illusion of what to follow and how fast I needed to become.
What followed was about a year of exploration. But not the
romantic kind. The dangerous kind. I was curious. I was addicted to freedom. I
was involved in bending rules and quietly breaking norms long before I
understood why boundaries exist.
And then came the day.
I confidently wore my home clothes and walked out of school
late in the evening with a friend. He was older, more experienced in the ways
of the night. At the time, he felt like a doorway into a life I wasn't yet
allowed to live. For many years, I blamed him for some of the outcomes in my
life.
But adulthood has taught me something uncomfortable. Peer
pressure doesn't create desire; it only exposes it. It simply provides a
convenient scapegoat when guilt eventually sets in.
Key Point 1 – Freedom without responsibility is the most dangerous habit of all
We were going out on a school day. Even now, I still don't
understand how a school could offer that much freedom without carefully
supervising young boys. But here is what I didn't understand at fourteen, and
what I now emphasize as a habit coach: With more freedom comes greater
responsibility.
And it is the absence of responsibility that destroys
people. You are responsible for every single action you take. Intentionally. Unintentionally.
Carelessly. Curiously. We have developed a very clever way of pretending we are
not responsible for the things we “didn’t mean”, the things we “didn’t plan”,
or the things we have conveniently forgotten. But responsibility does not
disappear just because memory becomes selective.
That day, we boarded a matatu some distance from school.
Soon enough, we found ourselves in a dingy club. I was too excited to notice
how wrong that whole situation already was. The only club I knew before that
was a small Sunday afternoon dance spot back in Nanyuki, where kids drank soft
drinks, danced badly, and went home early.
I loved those afternoons and remember them fondly. My older
sister took me to this spot a few times at first. I enjoyed watching people
dance freely to music, just like I did.
This was different. The fact that they allowed children
should have been my first warning. But excitement blinds more than alcohol.
Inside, there was a smoky darkness, not just cigarette smoke, but something
heavier, something that dulled the senses and blurred boundaries.
The bouncer collected his fee with a sideways glance and an
open hand. He recognized my friend, which should have told me everything. We
moved to a corner. The music blared. And as usual, my feet started moving
involuntarily.
I was impressed, and that was my crime.
We sat at a table where most of the people were men, lost in
their foggy thoughts, drinks in front of them, cigarettes glowing between
fingers. Why that felt cool to me at fourteen is still a mystery. But I
remember watching one man puff large theatrical clouds into the air, like
circus smoke.
And I grinned, a broad, foolish, satisfied grin. My friend,
a brilliant mind, noticed it. He briefly disappeared and then returned with a
pack of cigarettes. With confident expertise, he opened the pack right in front
of me.
For a moment, a small thought crossed my mind. Do you really
want to learn how to smoke? I brushed it away faster than a Standard Three
teacher dismisses wrong multiplication answers.
He tilted the pack, and one cigarette rose dramatically. I
reached for it, my hand trembling and my mouth suddenly dry. He borrowed a
lighter, drew closer, and in that moment, I thought of cowboy movies. I leaned
in, the cigarette lit, and I inhaled.
Now!
Let me say this carefully. I have come to believe that
destiny exists because the moment tobacco smoke entered my lungs, something
inside me rebelled. Not politely, but violently. My body rejected it. I coughed
hard.
Not the “let me try again” cough. The “get this nonsense out
of me” cough. And as I looked at the men puffing around me, something shifted. It
wasn’t admiration. It wasn’t curiosity. It was confusion. What on earth is this
rubbish you people are inhaling? That was the first and last cigarette I ever
put in my mouth.
My body had already been conditioned differently. For years,
I loved standing outside in the early mornings, before sunrise, breathing in
the cold air slowly, deeply, and gratefully. That habit existed long before the
cigarette. And when smoke entered those lungs, it felt like betrayal—a bitter
experience. My body refused to negotiate.
The same story happened with alcohol later on. I wish I
could say I enjoy beer. Unfortunately, my taste buds don't agree. It tastes
like something unfinished. I eventually learned to tolerate it socially. And
with a cute preference for craft beer, I hope someday someone invents something
more palatable. But sweeter, gentler treats always prevailed.
Key Point 2 – Most habits begin as a search for
belonging, not rebellion
Why am I sharing this story? Because every life has a moment,
sometimes very small, when a habit begins. A ritual starts. A behavior takes
hold. And years later, that same behavior grips you like a vice. Not because
you are weak. But because you never noticed when it quietly became part of your
identity.
Most habits don't start as an addiction. They start with a
sense of belonging. They begin as a quest for identity. They begin as a young
boy trying to find his place. They begin with curiosity. They start with
tasting freedom, sweet before responsibility learns to speak.
Many of us today are struggling with habits that didn't stem
from self-destruction. Instead, they were ways to find ourselves. To be seen.
To feel brave. To feel grown-up. To feel interesting. To feel part of
something.
And when guilt arrives later, we search for
villains—friends, partners, parents, society. But the truth is simpler and more
demanding: we were involved, and involvement always comes with responsibility.
Key Point 3 – Your self-concept decides whether a habit survives or dies
As I have grown older, I have learned something truly
freeing. You still hold the power to choose differently. You can choose to live
anew. Just because you started down a particular path doesn’t mean you must
finish the same way. But here is the uncomfortable truth: I teach in habit
coaching.
You do not break a habit by fighting the behavior. You break
a habit by renegotiating your identity. Your self-concept decides what you
permit to remain.
That cigarette failed not because it was dangerous, but
because it didn't align with the identity my body already recognized. Breathing
clean air had become a part of who I was. The habit had no soil to take root
in. Similarly, many habits persist not because they are powerful, but because
they fit too well into the story we tell ourselves.
Why do some mistakes feel small but cost years
This is where I get really serious. Mistakes can cost you
years. Choices can cost you time you'll never get back. Habits can quietly
shift your path so much that returning to yourself becomes an exhausting
pilgrimage.
Some consequences can be reversed, but others take a long
time to undo, and some will never let you live an everyday life again. This is not
fear; it's reality.
But this matters: I am not inviting you to walk through life
on eggshells. Caution is not paralysis. Wisdom is not cowardice.
Learning to risk wisely — not recklessly
There is another subtle danger I have observed. Sometimes, the things we risk so much for aren't risks at all. They
are our egos desperately defending a curated version of ourselves. There is a
difference between risking growth and safeguarding our image.
Know the difference. Some discomfort is growth. Some caution
is fear in a tailored suit.
Conclusion – The habit that truly matters
This story isn't about smoking. It's about authorship. It's
about responsibility. It's about understanding that habits are not just
behaviors we perform; they are agreements we make with ourselves about who we
are becoming.
The main message I want you to take from this story is: Your
future habits start forming long before you realize they matter, and your
self-concept will either defend you or quietly betray you.
You still have power. You still have authorship. You still
get to choose.
Call to Action
This week, pause and identify one habit in your life, good
or destructive, and ask yourself honestly: What identity is this habit
serving?
If you would like help rebuilding your self-concept,
reshaping your habits and learning how to choose deliberately rather than
accidentally, follow my work and reach out.
If this message stirred something in you, don’t let it fade.
1. Join
my LinkedIn Habit Coaching Newsletter: https://www.linkedin.com/newsletters/habits-with-coach-edwin-7399067976420966400/
2. Join
my Habit WhatsApp Community at https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VbAmKkOBvvsWOuBx5g3L
3. Alternatively,
sign up for my 12-month Personal Transformation Program by sending me a
message on WhatsApp at +254-724328059.
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