From Mees van Lier, founder of Lio
Bali · May 2026
— Hey.
If you're on this page, you've probably already seen the product, the science page, the reviews, the side-by-side comparison with a cigarette. That's all true. But none of it explains why this company exists, so I'd like to use the next four minutes to do that myself.
I was nineteen. My dad's best friend had been trying to quit smoking for as long as I could remember — patches, gum, vapes, hypnosis, prayer. Each one worked for about ten days. Then the cigarette would come back. He'd shrug. He'd say "the body just wants it". And I noticed something: he didn't actually crave the chemical. He craved the gesture. The reach into the pocket. The flick. The breath out. The two-minute break in the doorway.
That's when it clicked. We were trying to solve a drug problem when the real thing keeping people hooked was a movement they'd practised 200 times a day for thirty years.
So I made a wooden tube. It took six prototypes. The early ones cracked. The fifth one was the first one that survived a pocket. I sent three to friends and asked them to be honest. Two of them told me, without me prompting, that they hadn't smoked that day. Not because of Lio, exactly. Because their hand was busy. The chemistry hadn't gone anywhere — they just had something else to do with their fingers.
Four years later, 150,000 people have bought a Lio. I still answer every email myself when I can. Most of them aren't trying to win an award for quitting — they just want their hands occupied without setting fire to anything.
A lot of brands in this category will tell you they're going to save your life. I won't. I'm not a doctor. Lio isn't a medical device. We don't make any clinical claim and we never will — we got close to that line once in 2024 and a Dutch consumer watchdog called Tros Radar quietly reminded us to back off. They were right to.
So here's the deal we make instead: we'll give you something to do with your hand. A piece of olive or walnut wood, weighed and balanced like a fountain pen, with a botanical core that releases flavour when you breathe. No nicotine. No smoke. No combustion. No cessation timeline. Just the ritual, kept, in a form that doesn't damage you.
If that's enough to interrupt your habit, beautiful. If it's not, that's also fine — we'll refund you within 90 days and you can move on. I'd rather you do that than feel stuck with us.
The piano is right behind me. I play badly, but every morning. It's the one thing that makes me feel safe, and I think a lot about the fact that for some people that thing has been a cigarette for 25 years. That deserves more respect than the cessation industry usually gives it.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for being curious enough to dig past the product page. If you want to talk, my email is below — and yes, it actually reaches me.
If the letter was too long, this is the version I'd say in an elevator.
Lio is a ritual replacement. Not a cure. Not a treatment. Not a clinical intervention. If you need one of those, please see a doctor.
Mine is hi@breathelio.com. While the team is twelve people, refunds, complaints, weird ideas, and edge cases all still come past me.
Use the device, finish three cores, and if the ritual hasn't replaced the urge — full refund, no script, no questions, no retention call.
The starter pack is the easiest way in: one Lio device, six flavours, ninety days to know if it's for you.
Shop the starter pack →