Sharing Your Cannabis Consumption, It's time.

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I would have never dreamed that I would be the stoner that I am today. I was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness. This isn’t what we do, this isn’t what my parents expected of me. But when teenage me smoked for the first time in the backseat of my friends ‘96 BMW, I found a little piece of tranquility that I had been subconsciously searching for. Unfortunately, after I finally found it, some of the closest people around me became my biggest critics. They were disappointed and condescending about my cannabis use, but at the same time, uneducated on anything cannabis.

I felt like I was being shamed, because I was being shamed. But that wasn’t going to and didn’t stop me from snatching little pieces of smokey heaven for myself. I still kept my stoner lifestyle from my Mom, but my friendships started to evolve, I became closer to folks I once kept at an arm's distance because of their cannabis use. In a way, high school me was aware of the importance of a safe space, where my love for weed could be expressed without rejection and lecture.

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A year later, around the time I graduated high school, I was stupidly riding around in my Jeep with a big ass bong under my seat and a bag of weed in the glove compartment at all times. I was the definition of comfortable with cannabis. Everyone knew I smoked. I mean, I never told my mom explicitly that I did, but my senior year in high school she found a full bag of weed I had left on the kitchen counter and after convincing her it was a friend of mine’s that had been over the night before - she found another weed bag (empty) the very next day in a pair of my shorts she was washing. I came out of both of those situations unscathed and ungrounded but I was convinced my mom knew what was really going on. How could she not, my dirty clothes smelled of smoke and far too often I had to walk past her fresh from a hotbox session.

A few years went by, my relationship with my mom soured and so did my desire to please her by being a “good” and “respectful” daughter. I wanted to be true to myself. It had taken so long to dismantle my well-established religious guilt, I wanted to free myself from all the restrictions holding me back from living my best life. I hated going to see her and having to hide that I was high and wanted to go out to the backyard so I could get higher. I wanted to be able to tell her how cannabis helped soothe my IBS and disordered eating. I wanted to show her how cannabis could help with her insomnia. I wanted her to experience how Kush Queens CBD bath bombs and Melt CBD lotion could ease her achy knees. So I just told her and it was honestly one of the most anti-climatic conversations we’ve ever had. She was understanding and understandably worried about me getting arrested in Indianapolis for enjoying my little piece of smoky heaven. But there weren’t any judgments, just concerns.

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I was like so many of my other friends, too scared to tell their parents the truth about my love for cannabis - much too worried about what the consequences would be for my honesty. But I realized that my silence on cannabis and CBD with the closest people around me doesn’t help educate them on its benefits and dismantle the War on Drugs propaganda we’ve all been force fed. It’s been time to take steps forward. Whether it’s cannabis in its plant form or it’s non-psychoactive sibling CBD being used - we all have an obligation to the plant that gives so much and to the people that have been sacrificed for its legalization and growth. We can help clear its name of false facts, stigmas, and stereotypes, just with real science and our honest experiences. All it takes is one honest, adult conversation to take that first step into living your best cannabis life.

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