The first time I smoked a joint.

Do you remember the first time that you smoked a joint?

My first time wasn’t like most of my friends. Most of my gang had no interest in touching the stuff, or already had when they were younger. In this post, I must make note, that I do not condone consuming cannabis under the legal age of majority in your area of residence.

I didn’t smoke weed until I was in college. I knew that I always wanted to try it, but I never sought it out. Until one day, my friend who often visited the campus smoke pit with a joint in hand, or her car for quick smoke breaks in between classes – rolled me up a little joint, and handed it to me in a plastic baggy. I was both excited, and scared. I was a DARE kid, so I wasn’t too sure what to think. We talked about cannabis and its health properties casually before, but I never asked to try it – again, I was too nervous too. No one in my family at the time I knew of smoked, nor did I know a lot about it. But this was it. I had my very first joint. So as any young, first-year college student does… I took it home to my mom. That’s right. You read that right. I wanted to try it, but I didn’t really know what to do with it and I didn’t want to ask my super cool college friend any more questions about it. But she was kind enough to tell me if I wanted to try it, I should try it somewhere I was comfortable and safe.

So I shyly went home and pulled the now slightly squished joint out of my book bag to show my mom. Now, most young adults probably wouldn’t do this. I was afraid my mom might be upset with me, I had lots of time to think about it on my way home from class. But my folks have always been pretty good with having open discussions around substances and other important life matters. They kind of had a rule that if they couldn’t stop us from trying or doing something, they rather us do it at home than somewhere in a stranger’s basement or backfield. I always supper appreciated that about them.

And much to my surprise, she looked kinda excited, then kinda concerned. She snatched the bag out of hand and continued to look around the kitchen for a lighter.

“Where did you get this?” My mom asked. Tone neutral more so over the anger I expected. I replied saying from who, and my mom nodded. Leading us out to the deck. “I used to smoke weed all the time,” She said. ” Flicking the lighter on and off. “Your dad asked me to stop.” … and then, we spent the next 45mins discussing cannabis, what the hell I was doing with it, and my mom reminiscing but ensuring I understood the repercussions of this plant. And in the moment, I was both proud of myself and my mom. She asked me why I wanted to smoke weed, and to this day, I still consider that one of the best questions she could’ve asked me. I then spent the next 15 minutes coughing.

I’ll roll us one, and let me know in the comments below what your first consumption experience was with cannabis.

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