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Why female potheads still feel ashamed

I’ve been smoking pot on and off since I was about 17. Throughout this time — we’re talking 25 years— I believe I bought my own pot once. I have always relied on the men in my life to provide it for me. When I look back at my history with marijuana, I simply have no connection to the weed in my life and where it comes from (except for that boyfriend who filled two of our small closets with plants in 1997). Along with relying on men for it, I also don’t discuss smoking with girlfriends. I wouldn’t meet up with another woman to get high the way I would, say, for a glass of shiraz. There’s probably only been a handful of times in the past 10 years have I gotten high with a group of women to simply relax.

Most of the men I know, on the other hand, get high. They discuss the product. They have multiple sources. They invest in smokeless inhalation devices like the Volcano and the portable Wispr. They speak about their weed machines like they’d talk about cars. Or computers. Or the way my Uncle Joe used to obsess over his ham radios in the 1970s. And while the country has more or less embraced the stoner way of life — new data shows that more Americans are getting high now than in previous years — the stigma around women smoking pot is still pretty black and white.

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