I've smoked weed exactly once in my life, and I hated it.
I was a freshman in college and the experience, fraught with intense feelings of panic and paranoia, meant it wouldn't be another ten years before I flirted with marijuana again, this time in the form of a few nibbles of a weed cookie. While I escaped all of the negative side effects from my first experience, I was so chilled out that I was practically glued to a chair for hours. It wasn't a feeling I loved, and I concluded that marijuana in any form was probably not for me.
So when my friends found out that I'd started drinking THC drinks — containing the same active ingredient in marijuana that will get you high — they were floored. I'd seen THC drink options pop up on a few local restaurant menus, which prompted a rabbit hole expedition to learn more about them and subsequently led to me giving them a try.
The promise of getting a buzz sans booze appealed to me. As someone who likes a glass of wine a few nights a week to unwind, but who is also trying to shed a few pounds and becoming more health-conscious, it seemed like drinking a THC beverage could kill two birds with one stone.
Through trial and error, I've found that having 2-3 milligrams of THC combined with 4-5 milligrams of CBD makes me feel like I've had a fairly hefty glass of wine. I get the same sort of head-buzz I would with wine — except without sleep disruptions or that subsequent morning drag.
My friends were intrigued, but the general consensus seemed to be that they were scared to try them. I threw out an idea to the group: with our next book club meeting approaching, would they want to try the THC drinks together? There would be safety in numbers, and having a shared experience might make those who were curious more amenable to giving it a try. The answer then was overwhelmingly yes.
Leading up to the book club, there was a certain level of giddiness among the group. And on the night of, I arrived slightly early to ice down the drinks. I had promised everyone that I'd bring a low dose option to try to mitigate any potential for someone to experience unpleasant side effects from having too much.
As we sat gathered around, some with various flavors of Cann in our hand and some opting just to observe, it struck me that we were acting exactly like high schoolers about to have their first sip of alcohol at a big house party.
I remember my first drink, holding a Smirnoff Ice and excited by the prospect of trying it but also nervous for how it would make me feel. I'd asked several other friends in attendance who'd already had their maiden drink what I should expect, if I was going to be drunk, and whether I would be hungover in the morning.
The same questions I had asked over 20 years ago were now coming to me as the only experienced person in the room. I fielded questions and concerns about how long it would take to feel an effect (30-40 minutes), how long the effect would last (90 minutes to two hours), and whether they were likely to enjoy the experience (yes). Timidly, they started to sip on their drinks.
As they did so, I posed a question: "What would your partner say if you told them you were going to go have a few glasses of wine with your friends?" Predictably, the answers were supportive. But the next question made them bristle, as I asked, "What would your partner say if you told them you were going to go get a little high with your friends?" I quickly followed that with, "Did you tell your partner you were trying THC drinks tonight?"
I had asked my husband the same questions, too. He thought for a second before admitting that it would make him feel uncomfortable if I told him on the way out the door that I was going to go get high with my girlfriends. He couldn't put his finger on why exactly it was jarring and uncomfortable, even though he conceded that my usual glass of wine would have a similar effect.
We've made drinking alcohol a widely accepted societal norm, and it's even considered acceptable to occasionally completely overdo it while drinking. The pervasive "mommy wine culture" means no one blinks when girlfriends get together to drink a few bottles of wine.
THC in any form, though, feels like it still carries a heavy stigma even though these industrial hemp beverages are legal in a majority of states. Considering alcohol's known negative effects, it's a frustrating double standard that it's more widely accepted to drink.
The women admitted they had been nervous to tell their partners they'd be trying a THC drink for fear that they wouldn't approve, with one telling me flat-out that she wouldn't be telling her husband. All of them said they would, however, tell their husbands about drinking anything alcoholic with friends, without pause
As the night went on, they started to feel the effects of the drink. I had been nervous that they would all hate it and that I would feel responsible for ruining their night, so I let out a big sigh of relief when the positive reviews came rolling in. They, too, become excited about the benefits I'd been pitching them. And as parents of small kids, none of us can afford to feel remotely sluggish in the morning.
As for the book club discussion itself? Well, we're a book club that probably does more chatting than deep-diving, and not everyone reads the book all the time to begin with (hi!), but we did have a lively conversation about "James," a current bestseller that reimagines the story of Huck Finn.
Our book club tends to get more spirited as the second and third glasses of wine hit, with our voices getting louder and louder. This time around, however, the discussion was definitely more chill and our tongues weren't quite as loose as they typically are.
Will we get together on a regular basis to drink THC? I bet so, although I suspect it will take some time to get to that point. In the meantime, there'll be plenty of new releases to keep us busy.
Elliott Harrell is a Raleigh, NC-based freelance writer with two little girls who runs a sales team by day and writes about things she's passionate about, like women's health, parenting, and food, at night. In addition to PS, her work can be found in The Everymom, Motherly, Business Insider, Eater, and more.