As far as suburban moms go, I fit the mold perfectly. I actively engage in my children’s lives and contribute to my community, embodying the traits of a responsible and trustworthy adult. I’m a devoted wife, a caring friend, a loving daughter, and most importantly, a mother who cherishes her kids above all else. You’d feel comfortable entrusting me with your children, home, or pets while you’re away on vacation.
I have a job, I strive to maintain my family’s health, and I appreciate a clean house—though sometimes that just means a quick spritz of Febreze. My wardrobe consists of skinny jeans, cardigans, and flats; classic mom attire.
In my purse, I carry my voter ID, passport, library card, driver’s license (with two decades of safe driving, knock on wood), and an assortment of Band-Aids and snacks because you never know when a kid or fellow mom might need them.
I dye my hair to conceal the grays and apply drugstore wrinkle cream in hopes it works just as well as the pricey brands I can’t afford, thanks to the demands of raising four growing children. By 9 p.m., I’m usually ready to call it a night, so I’m not exactly the life of the party. However, on particularly long days, I might unwind on my couch with a glass of wine or two.
This is me, and chances are, I’m a lot like you. I could be your neighbor or your friend. We could easily hang out. There’s just one thing: instead of “relaxing on my couch with a glass of wine or two,” let’s say I unwind with a joint.
Does that change your perception of me? If so, take a moment to reconsider.
To clarify, I don’t use marijuana for medicinal purposes; I indulge purely for stress relief. And you know what? That’s a perfectly valid reason. My approach is no different than someone who unwinds with a martini, though I might consume a few more snacks while doing it.
Yes, marijuana remains illegal in many areas, just as alcohol once was. During Prohibition, enjoying a drink outside of church could lead to jail time. I don’t keep large quantities at home, and it’s well-hidden from my children (I’m also the kind of mom who stashes emergency chocolate, so I know a thing or two about discretion). I only use it after my kids are in bed, and I never indulge to the point of incapacitation. Just as I wouldn’t get blackout drunk and risk not being alert for an emergency, I wouldn’t smoke to the point of being out of control while my children are under my care.
Although getting excessively high is quite difficult, I treat marijuana with the same responsibility you would exercise with alcohol. No driving, no overindulging. I’m aware of my limits and don’t approach them.
Acquiring it isn’t an issue either; there’s no need for shady dealings in back alleys or parking lots. It’s readily available, and you’d be surprised by how many non-stereotypical users there are—many of whom are upstanding members of society, including doctors and politicians. They remain discreet about their habits to avoid judgment, much like I do.
People who haven’t tried marijuana often harbor negative perceptions, influenced by long-standing beliefs that it’s a “dangerous drug” or a gateway to more harmful substances, which is simply untrue. If you’re open about being a smoker, you face unwarranted judgment due to these misconceptions. Just as having a drink doesn’t make someone an alcoholic, smoking a joint doesn’t equate to addiction or being a “pothead.”
It would be wonderful to socialize with friends and enjoy marijuana as casually as one might sip wine on a girls’ night out. Unfortunately, I don’t live in a place where that’s socially acceptable yet. Until that day comes, I must keep my usage private, lest someone think that responsibly enjoying marijuana makes me an inadequate parent.
Of course, I don’t want my children to experiment with it. The thought is unsettling, just as I would cringe at the idea of them drinking at a teenage party or engaging in any form of sexual activity. I worry for them because they are kids, too young to experiment with anything that alters their consciousness. Kids make poor choices even without the influence of substances, so I will caution them about the risks associated with anything that can change their mental state.
In truth, I’d prefer they never touch anything stronger than coffee, but that expectation is unrealistic. When they become adults and are capable of making rational choices, I won’t mind if they choose to partake in marijuana occasionally. All I ask is that they be ready to share. Puff, puff, pass.
Summary
This article explores the life of a typical suburban mom who enjoys recreational marijuana for stress relief. She discusses her responsible approach to parenting while using cannabis, emphasizing that occasional use doesn’t define one’s character or parenting abilities. The piece aims to challenge perceptions surrounding marijuana use, encouraging open-mindedness and understanding.