But mom, it’s not what you think.

Mom,

I realize that you may not understand where I’m coming from and I realize that we come from completely different generations. But, I need you to know that cannabis doesn’t define me. Smoking in the backyard doesn’t make me a loser. Smoking with my friends doesn’t make you a bad mom. Writing about it doesn’t make me any less than. And, willingly admitting it definitely doesn’t make you or me a bad person.

For me, smoking is an outlet. It’s a way to release my anxieties instead of running a mile or hitting the gym because we know that’s definitely not in the cards for me. These last few months have taught me far too much about self-worth and self-fulfillment. Sometimes, as lame as this may sound, I just need to sit and take the edge off. Yes, I’m only 24. But, right now, life is hitting me in so many different directions. If I could learn to rise above it all right now, I easily would. I don’t like waking up feeling like my chest is going to explode from all the built up pressure and anxiety. I don’t like dreading bedtime because I know sleep is not really my friend. But, life isn’t that simple and I’m learning to understand that more and more. I just want you to know that I’m okay. I need you to know that I respect you. I respect that you find smoking so taboo. Surprisingly, I wouldn’t want you sitting down and lighting one up with me. I just don’t see it like that. I actually would be concerned if you didn’t constantly yell at me about my “paraphernalia”.

Mom, thank you…Thank you for being my best gal. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for teaching me unconditional love. Oh, and I definitely couldn’t write this post without thanking you for the constant nagging. Even though we may not always tell you this, your annoyance has made my sisters and I the fab women we are today.

Don’t worry mom, I may smoke “that stupid stuff”, but I’m starting to realize that there really is so much more to me.

Stay Lifted,

Cwissy

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