The Cops Came Knocking: My Crime? Being a Mom Who Smokes Weed.

It was a perfectly ordinary Saturday, February 22, 2025. The sun was shining, my mother was recovering from knee surgery, I was tidying the house, and my child was downstairs playing PlayStation. Nothing dramatic. Nothing unusual. Until my father walked into the room and said, “Uhhh, Why are the RCMP here?”

I looked outside and saw them. They were there for me.

The RCMP officer explained that an anonymous report had been made through Crime Stoppers alleging that I was involved in heavy drug use and abusing my child. I was baffled. Not because I was afraid of being discovered doing something wrong, but because there was nothing to discover.

I am a medical cannabis patient. I have worked in the cannabis industry for more than 15 years. I am a mother. I run a magazine. I pay my bills, raise my kid, work ridiculous hours, and occasionally wonder why I thought starting a magazine was a good idea. But apparently, someone thought cannabis use was enough to turn my life into a police report.

The officer was professional and respectful. I explained the situation, introduced her to my child, and answered her questions. Within the conversation, it became obvious that the report was unfounded. And just like that, the RCMP left. She found the report to be false and no follow up from CPS was needed.

But the experience stayed with me.

Cannabis has been legal in Canada for years, and yet somehow the stigma didn't get the memo. There is still this bizarre cultural idea that a person who uses cannabis must automatically be irresponsible, reckless, lazy, or incapable of parenting. Women get an especially interesting version of that judgment.

A mother can have a glass of wine around a campfire and nobody starts questioning her ability to parent. A parent can drink alcohol at a hockey game. Alcohol is everywhere, advertised, celebrated, gifted, poured at dinner and incorporated into countless social events. But mention that you're a cannabis consumer and suddenly people become amateur investigators.

For women, the judgment can be even harsher. We're expected to be mothers, professionals, entrepreneurs, caregivers, partners and everything else society asks of us. Yet the moment cannabis enters the conversation, some people want to erase everything else about us.

This is exactly why I created High Moon Magazine.

High Moon wasn't created because I wanted another cannabis magazine. It was created because I wanted to change the conversation.I wanted a place where cannabis consumers could see themselves represented as actual human beings. Women. Mothers. Business owners. Artists. Patients. Growers. Educators. Creatives. People who work nine-to-five jobs. People who work in the cannabis industry. People who use cannabis medicinally. People who simply enjoy the plant responsibly.

We aren't one stereotype. We're an entire population, and our stories deserve more than the tired image of the irresponsible stoner.Let's be very clear. Responsible cannabis use and responsible parenting are not mutually exclusive.

Being a cannabis consumer does not mean consuming around your child irresponsibly. It doesn't mean driving impaired. It doesn't mean ignoring your responsibilities. Responsible consumption means understanding your limits, knowing the law, making informed choices and putting your family's safety first.

Those things can coexist.

Parenthood doesn't require us to stop being human. Mothers are allowed to have hobbies. We're allowed to have careers. We're allowed to relax. We're allowed to have interests outside of our children.And yes, some of us use cannabis.That doesn't make us bad mothers.

As my child gets older, one of the things I'm proudest of is the fact that we can actually talk about cannabis. Not because I want my child to consume it, but because I want my child to understand it.

There is a difference.

I would much rather my child grow up understanding what cannabis is, what the potential risks are, why age matters, what responsible use looks like, and why impairment matters than grow up believing cannabis is some mysterious forbidden substance that can never be discussed.

Education creates room for better decisions. Silence doesn't.

That Saturday wasn't just an uncomfortable interaction with the RCMP. It reminded me why High Moon matters.Because stigma has consequences.

It can cost people friendships. It can affect families. It can make people hide their medical treatment. It can make parents afraid to speak honestly. It can make women feel like they have to choose between being taken seriously and being honest about their cannabis use.And I refuse to participate in that silence.

High Moon exists to bring a different perspective to the conversation. Not blind celebration. Not pretending cannabis has no risks. Not telling everyone they should consume. Education. Representation. Responsible use. Real stories. And occasionally, calling out the ridiculousness of a culture that still thinks a cannabis-consuming mother automatically belongs in a police report.

The RCMP came to my door that Saturday because someone made an accusation. They left knowing the accusation wasn't true.

I was left with something else: a reminder of exactly why I started High Moon.

Because the cannabis community deserves to be seen as people, not stereotypes.And mothers deserve to be seen as mothers, not judged by what they choose to consume.

So yes, I use cannabis. Yes, I'm a mother. Yes, I run a magazine. Yes, I've built a career in this industry. And yes, I can be all of those things at once.

Welcome to High Moon. We're here to change the damn narrative. 🌙🌿