There was nothing I used to love more than smoking weed.

I loved the excitement I’d feel before I brought lips to joint. Or to bowl. Or to bong.

I Ioved the feeling of that first inhale as I'd close my eyes and let my shoulders fall, my head drop back, and wait for everything to come into “focus.”

I loved smoking weed, walking to a restaurant, and writing.

I loved smoking weed and taking a bath.

I loved smoking weed and cooking.

I loved smoking weed and [insert anything].


I didn’t REALLY love smoking weed.

I didn’t REALLY love that within 30 minutes, those fuzzy "feel-good" sensations would be replaced with brain fog and numbness.

I didn't REALLY love the paranoid feeling I'd get that someone could call or knock while I was stoned– like my landlords or their little kids!

I didn't REALLY love sneaking off to my car, hot-boxing bathrooms, and worrying about the strong, skunky scent.

And I REALLY didn't love spending time searching so fucking hard to find successful people who used weed so I could have a "model."

Like, "Oh, look! See!? He smoke! She smokes! So I can, too!"

And even better if they were "spiritual." Because soul growth was important to me.

So I'd search for needles in the haystack to justify my habit even though I KNEW deep down that something was off. It was just too much work with way too little reward to be worth all the effort!

But... I clung.

Out of fear.

Fear of what my life would be like without weed. My security blanket.

The only thing that was there for me when it felt like no one and nothing else was.

One of the only things that could help me feel... well, anything. For a few minutes, at least...

But man, did I LIVE for those few minutes.

Until finally, I got so damn sick of my own bullshit.

So sick of lying to myself.

And hiding. 

And pretending.

And feeling so... ADDICTED.

So I eased up. And I CLEANED up. From my mind, to my body, to my soul.

And the fog began to lift.

And I faced the trauma and the abuse I'd been running from for decades.

And I survived.

WITHOUT the weed.

When one day, I realized, "I'm sober! I'm free!"

And now? I can honestly say that today, I love MYSELF more than weed.

I love MYSELF more than anything.

Which is all I ever needed all along.