I Was Gonna Clean My Room. But Then I Got...

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I was gonna clean my room, but then I got…

If you know the song, you know the song! 

And if you don’t? God bless your precious soul.


But first things first, I, Jalyssa T. Woodall, have a HUGE announcement to make.


* drum roll *


I have not touched the ganja, the Mary Jane, that za! In a whole a year. 


* and the crowd goes wildddd * 


Whew! When I tell you I have never gone this long without the green machine! And I am so proud of myself, because if you bout that life, you know after a while ain’t no stopping.


And I know people love to say you can’t get ‘addicted’ to the devil’s lettuce... 


But if you’ve told yourself to stop time and time again, for however long, and you weren’t able to… guess what?



Actually, I’m going to stop right there. Because to be honest…


I don’t care what you smoke! Lol. 

What you snort.

Or what you drink.


We are humans, and humans are creatures of habit. And in this story, I’ll tell you how mine got started, how it got worse, and how fitty leven years later, it finally stopped.


But just like I’m not judging you for what you smoke, drink, or snort, Ima need you not to judge me either, okay? Remember, this is a safe place. Where I can be vulnerable, you can be vulnerable, and we can be vulnerable together. Mkay? Cool.





Now first things first, for the virgins in the room, I’m talking about weed. 


Ganja, Mary Jane, the devil’s lettuce, that za! It’s all a synonym for weed. And yes, I used to smoke it.


Now for those of you who only know me in a family setting or a professional setting, you may be have gasped like:

😲 my little LeLe? 

😲 my old coworker?


Yes, it’s true.


And that’s why it’s important not to judge a book by its cover, ladies and gentlemen!

Because little Lele, miss black girl marketing herself, used to be out here getting stoned to the bone. 


But all good things must come to an end. And all things that started out as good and ended up terrible must come to an end too. And here’s how…



I Hit it Right… I Think?

Most people who smoke weed for the first time usually have one of the following experiences:

  • they either aren’t sure they hit it right

  • or they 100% did


And I just so happened to be someone who wasn’t sure if I even hit it right.


I was 18 years old and it was right after prom. I stayed at my homegirl’s house after the dance, and her date pulled up on us. The plan was for him to come and get us high, and that’s exactly what happened... Or so I think.


To be honest, that was literally 13 years ago so I can’t remember if I hit it right foreal. But I do know we ordered some gyros right after and I tore that thang UP. So I’m assuming I did.


So at the age of 18, weed was still pretty innocent.


We graduate, the summer continues, and I literally didn’t touch weed again. I just wasnt pressed about it, and to be honest I was pretty scary growing up. Like I didn’t have my first kiss until 7th grade and even then it was on the cheek.


Next thing you know, I’m in college. Having a good ol time too! With just liquor. 


For my 19th birthday my sister sent me her ID, and if you’ve ever seen us we look just alike. So getting in the bars was nothing for me! Going to the liquor store was nothing for me! 


But then, 420 came around. And just like in high school, I was hanging with my homegirls and a dude she was talking to said he was about to pull up. 


He told us to come outside and next thing you know, we were hot-boxing in his car. 


Now because I’m scary, I could remember being nervous we were gonna get caught. Granted, we were ducked off in the cut, but still, I was trying to be an RA (a resident assistant) the next year, and the last thing I needed was a disciplinary ding on my record. I definitely wouldn’t get hired with that.


But thankfully, we were good. No police came up to the car, and he dropped us off to our dorm lit.


The elevator ride was full of us dancing, cracking jokes, and talking loud… until the doors opened.


Just so happens that my homegirl's neighbors were getting lit on 420 too. But instead of hot-boxing in a car, they smoked in their room, and the police were there searching the premises.


Beds were moved, mattresses were turned upside down.

And that was my first realization that weed may not be so innocent after all…


A few days later I ran into the girl who was getting her room raided, she was a cool Mexican girl and we would speak whenever we saw each other. So I just had to ask… 


“Did they find anything?”


“Nope,” she said. Like she had no cares in the world.


“We smoked all that shit before they came. The only thing they found was some ash in the windowsill, so we did get written up and will have to meet with student conduct, but nothing too major...”


“Nothing too major?!” I thought. Girrrl if I got caught with anything, if they called my Momma and told her ANYTHING, she wouldn’t only cuss me out but she’d knock me out, and threaten to send me to my neighborhood community college too.


But thankfully, me and the girls I was with didn’t get caught. And thankfully the girls who did, didn’t get kicked out of school. So again, I’m thinking… weed is still pretty innocent.


The next year I ended up becoming an RA and it was great! I was getting my room and board paid for, I had the highest amount of meal swipes, got a little check once a month (emphasis on little - it was $66) and because I had to do rounds and security checks I was always in the dorm. So I didn’t party this year and my grades showed it.

I remember getting a 3.9 GPA and was so proud! Cause one, that’s super high! And two, I was planning on pledging Delta the next year, and wanted my GPA to be as high as possible. Fun fact: I’ve always been a go-getter.


So for that year there was no weed. There wasn’t any either guys either. Just me, my job, my studies, and my dreams of being a Delta.


The next year comes and guess what happens? I become a Delta!


And junior and senior year was some of the most fun I ever had thanks to those girls.


There’s nothing like freshman year, right? You’re away from home, ain’t gotta worry about your parent’s mouth, you’re meeting all these new people who live like footsteps away. It can all be so much fun!


Sophomore year, too! That’s when most people start living off campus. And you can throw parties and kickbacks at your crib without pesky RA’s popping up (disclaimer: I was a cool RA. I’m not gon say I didn’t care what my residents did, but I will say I liveddddd freshman year, and I wanted my girls to do the same).


But junior and senior year were the absolute best for me. I became a Delta, I started living off campus, I won a scholarship pageant, I was super involved on campus, I had a job paying more than $66 a month. Life was lit! 


And so were me and my sorority sisters.


When we went out, whether it was a union party, a kick back, or an afterset, we had a time! The pre-games were full of getting dressed, dancing, dranking, and you guessed it… getting high.


A few of my sorority sisters were a little more advanced in the weed department. They had a legit weed man. And we were sisters, so if there was a blunt, best believe everybody was gon hit it. 


Including me.


I remember this one time, all nine of us climbed into a Chevy Impala and hot-boxed like there was no tomorrow. We were sitting on each other’s laps, singing, recording videos. It was so much fun! 


And that’s when I discovered I enjoyed being “cross-faded.” A little weed, a little E&J or some Peach Paul Masson??? Baby bye! A time was gon be had! And it was all so…


Innocent.



After that I graduated and enrolled in grad school. My major was web design and I was the only black girl in my program (like always).


But this time around, there was a black guy too. 


And one day after class, he sparked a conversation and we got cool.


We’d hang out, talk shit about our professors, and yup, you guessed it. We’d get high.

I remember when he first pulled out his weed and asked if I smoked. I said yes, and he was so shocked!

Oftentimes he’d mention how “put-together” I was, and how he never thought the “pretty, well-spoken black girl from class” would be blowing trees.



But I really only smoked with him. I was new to the school and he had been there since undergrad. So he had the connects. 


I never had to buy weed and I never had to search for a weed man, because this friend always had it on him.


He would pull up on me and roll up.

Then we’d sit on my doorstep and smoke, make snapchats, and laugh the night away. 


We’d pig out on whatever I had in the crib, then he'd go home.


We would do this often! Not everyday, but maybe once or twice a week.


Then eventually we started getting lit and going to the library.


Our working sessions would be sooo productive! We would get stoned and knock out so much homework. We’d each have our headphones on, our munchie snacks right next to us, and would work the night away.


It was a good time. 

A simple time. 

An innocent time.


Once You Learn How to Roll, Ain’t No Going Back

So from the age of 18 to 29, I was on and off again with an ex. Let’s call him… Mr. Brown Eyes.


Mr. Brown Eyes and I tried to make it work fitty leven times by the time I was in grad school. 


We went to undergrad together. 

He was my first everything.

And I thought we were going to get married.


But when we were off, we were both out doing us, anddddd let’s just say my fairytale never happened…



But it didn’t matter, because I was in grad school at a new school, with new dudes! So I wasn’t thinking about my ex. He could stay wherever he was at.


But in true, ex who wants you back fashion, he used to be on my line. Asking to come see me while I was away at school, asking if we could make things work, etc., etc.


Now initially, I wasn’t going for it. Because the reason I left him the first fitty leven times were for good reason. 


Plus, I was at a new school, with new dudes! So I didn’t have to entertain that man if I didn’t want to. Cause I had options!


But, I also had a heart that still had a lot of love for him. So when he called and asked if he could pull up on me… I said yes.


Now one thing about Mr. Brown Eyes? He was gon have some weed. 


Which is crazy because I remember when we first started hanging out freshman year, he didn’t even smoke. He was more of a drinker. 


But just like most people in college, he picked up the habit and was a legit smoker now.



So much, that he taught me how to roll.


Yup, that night he pulled up on me he had some weed, and proceeded to show me how to roll it myself.


I remember that night like it was yesterday. 


One thing about us, we were going to have a good time laughing, talking… and doing other things too. Lol.



But I still didn’t trust him, and he didn’t trust me either.


So we just stayed playing this back and forth game. 


Linking up here and there, getting high, laughing, talking… and doing other things too. Lol.


Fast forward and graduation was coming up. And I really wanted to move to Portland, Oregon after! 


I had an internship there the summer before and it went sooo well! Plus my Mom had just moved there so I could spend time with her too.


But the company I interned with wasn’t hiring. So instead of moving to Portland, I went back to Chicago instead.


Now I’m back hanging with my sorority sisters, friends I met in grad school, other greeks… and I’m still getting lit. 


But like, responsibly. 


Because I was living with my very christian Aunt, and I had my first big girl job. Plus, I was a little more scary now. Like, this ain’t a college campus, we are in Chicago, and weed wasn’t legal at the time, so I was still very careful on how I moved.



And as time is going on, you know who is back hitting my line. 


I had him convinced that I was moving to Portland after graduation, so when I didn’t, he saw this as divine timing, and how we should really give us another try. A legit try.


Initially, I wasn’t falling for it.


But after so many dinners, so many hangouts, so many getting lits on his balcony, my heart softened up, and once he asked me to be with him, I said yes.



We were spending so much time together and eventually he asked me to move in.

And I said, I quote, “I’m not moving in here! I don't know who you had in here when I was away. Plus, this YO crib. If I think the plates need to go on the left, but you like em on the right, they gon have to stay on the left cause technically this yo crib.”


He looked at me like girl what? Lol.


But in a weird way, he understood my logic, and was like “okay well let’s find a place together.”


Now mind you, we were 24 years old at this point. Young as hell! But we were in love, and if we could have lived in the other’s skin we would've. So I agreed and we started looking for places.



A couple of viewings later we settled on a place, and moved in.


I remember my Aunt could not believe I was doing this! But I was in love and wanted to give it a real try one more time.


We had a lot of fun in that apartment.

We threw a house warming party that was sooo lit! Bottles and blunts on deck! Then we ran it back and had a christmas party. And again, bottles and blunts on deck!


But right before the holidays, Mr. Brown Eyes started having family issues. And instead of getting a therapist or going to church, he did what a lot of people do… he tried to distract himself with his vice of choice: weed.


Now we had smoked in our crib before, countless of times! But it was on some lituation type stuff. Never on no, we’re depressed type stuff. Ya know?


But I could tell his family issues were really starting to get to him. So we’d talk, I’d pray for him, I’d console him, but after a while, I guess it just wasn’t enough. And he started to smoke more.


Now at this point, did I smoke weed, yes? Did I know how to roll? Yes. But I wasn’t no full on stoner. Like, if I didn’t want to smoke, I just wouldn't smoke.



But my boyfriend was sad, and when he wanted to escape, he would roll up. 


Initially, when he’d ask if I wanted to hit it, I would say no and he didn’t press the issue.


But I remember one day, he was having a really hard day. And as he started to smoke, he passed it to me.



“No, I’m okay” I said.



Then he looked up at me, with those pretty brown eyes and said… “ you don’t wanna smoke with me?”



And between my love and care for him, and those eyes…



I folded like a lawn chair.



Next thing you know, whenever he smoked - I smoked.



Then unfortunately a couple of weeks later I started having family issues. And I was down bad.



So I did what I saw, I started to smoke more too…



And next thing you know, smoking became our escape. 



Looking back, we were both dealing with a lot and it’s clear we were extremely depressed. But at least we had each other… and weed.



This went on for months. 


Everything we did, whether going to the laundromat, going to dinners, going to weddings, going to concerts, going to Target… we had to get high first.


And eventually, weed wasn’t so innocent…


Me and Mr. Brown eyes lived together for ten months before I moved out. 


Because in my eyes, he cheated on me.


He swears they were just texts.


But in MY eyes, he cheated.


Therefore, he cheated.


So I moved out, heartbroken, disgusted with him, and ready to move on with my life.


I started living in up north Chicago, and even though I didn’t have furniture for the first three months I was just happy to have my own again.


But when I moved from living with Mr. Brown Eyes, I didn’t just take bags and boxes with me, I took a new habit too: smoking.


And now I was depressed and anxious, and without my lover, friend, and smoking buddy. So I did what I learned to do… I smoked.


I found a weed man up there, got me some swishers, and would smoke to escape reality.



Now mind you, my apartment was smoke-free, and you know I was scary, so I would follow the rules and just take walks and smoke outside. Until one day, my friend came over…


Now this friend and I went to high school together and she was a smoker foreal. Like had been smoking since she was 16, foreal. 


And I let her convince me that all we needed was some incense, to blow out the window, and we wouldn't get caught.



But, we did. 


Now even though my landlord was mean as hell and probably prejudiced, I could lowkey tell that she liked me. 


She’d see me going in and out for work, in my little dress clothes, and called me cute a few times. So I knew that she kinda liked me, especially compared to other residents. 

Because this lady was truly a pest, and the Google reviews showed it! 


But like I said, she was always semi-nice to me. And I believe that’s the only reason she didn’t kick me out. 

Because she had just kicked a girl out for weed the month before, but by the grace of God, I could stay.


Granted, she didn’t like catch us with blunt in hand, but you know when somebody just finished smoking! And she knew.



After that incident I decided I wanted to stop smoking. This nasty habit I picked up wasn’t worth my living arrangements, so I gave my friend the 3.5 I just grabbed and was ready to be done with the green machine…


Old Habits Die Hard 

Trying to stop smoking was one of the hardest things I had ever done. It had become so a part of my routine, that doing anything without it felt impossible.



I couldn’t eat without smoking first, I didn’t want to be out and about without smoking first. 


And eventually, I decided I couldn’t stop. 


So I invested in some weed pens.


For me, this was a great middle. Cause technically it was only weed oil, and I convinced myself that this was a healthier alternative because that means I wouldn't be consuming the swisher.

And on top of that, it didn’t have a smell. So I could do it whenever and wherever.


And that was the problem.


See actual weed limits you. Because at that time, you couldn't just smoke it anywhere. 


But that pen? Baby that could get hit wherever!


I found myself hitting it in the crib, in the bathroom at restaurants, before walking into a function.

It was so convenient. So damn convenient.



But then I started hearing that the pens were started to get tampered with, and that some of them were counterfeit. So eventually I was like, I’m not trying to get wrapped up into all that, let me get back to the green. 


And so I did.


But before I went back, I did try and stop smoking for the umpteenth time. But it was so hard to eat without it. I remember food tasting so nasty without being high. Everything had this icky metal taste to it. 


Then half the time I didn’t have an appetite. I would go hours without eating because I just wasn’t hungry. So eventually, I would justify smoking because I was like “I need to eat and this will do the trick.” 


And it did every time…


Product of Your Environment

Fun fact: it’s going to be hard to stop smoking if everybody around you smokes too…


I would consider myself a leader, an autonomous person, an individual…


But back then, if somebody passed me the blunt, I was gon hit it. Each and every time.


So it made stopping even harder. 


Some of my very best girlfriends were stoners. And at this point, I had started dabbling back with Mr. Brown Eyes, and he was a stoner too. 


So next thing you know, my “I’m done smoking” phase came and went. And I was back on the drug I loved to hate.


However, I was very honest about my struggles. The second blog post I ever wrote was called “S/O to Food, You the Realest” (you should read it after this) and it detailed how hard it was for me to stop smoking. 

And just like now, the blog was a place where I could keep it real with myself, no matter how ugly the truth was…


Then a couple of months went by and our new, dreadful friend COVID came to town. 


At this point I was living on the Southside and had a new boyfriend. 


He was older, mature, and didn’t smoke or drink. 


We had the same birthday, met in a super cute way, and he was good for me.


Our dates consisted of water instead of liquor, and the closest thing he was addicted to was the gym. 


I liked him, my Aunt liked him, and he was good.


When I was with him, this was the longest I had never smoked. Six whole months! And I was so proud.



But old habits die hard. 


And when government officials started bending the rules saying you could hang in small groups, I did just that. And those small groups had what? 


You guessed it. Weed.


The guy I was dating was never in these small groups. He was a simple, older guy. He really just worked, went to the gym, hung out with his mom and his dog and me.


But looking back, I think I was used to chaos. 


And was, in a strange way, missing it. 


So I pushed him away and eventually we broke up.



And not too long after, I found myself right back to my old habits. 


Smoking weed consistently… and hanging out with you know who.


W&B

Ironically when COVID started, weed became legal in Chicago. And there was a dispensary 20 minutes away from me. 


So every Saturday morning I would get up and do the same thing:

  • Place my order online

  • Pick it up

  • Walk around the neighborhood

  • Get high

  • Come inside

  • Eat a big breakfast

  • Then take a good nap!


And that ladies and gentlemen is what we call “wake and bake.”


And at the time, it was fun. It was a part of my routine. And now that weed was legal, I didn’t think it was that bad…


But then came more family drama, and eventually friend drama… and all I wanted to do was get comfort from somebody I knew would always be there.


Mr. Brown Eyes…




Looking back, I don’t know which habit was harder to shake, him or the weed.



Because both had a hold on me.

Both were my comfort zones.

And both were my distractions…. 

And ironically both would lie to me.


Weed would lie and convince me that getting high would make the drama I was experiencing hurt less. It convinced me that I didn’t care. It convinced me that I was fine. 


When in reality, I wasn't.


Meanwhile, my on-again-off-again ex was lying to me too. 


To this day, I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t. 


I don’t know how much of our love was true and how much was just out of habit. 


But I did know I was getting sick and tired of backtracking to things that meant no good for me.


Hey Let’s Get Away

At this point it’s 2022, and I was planning to move to a new apartment a couple of minutes away. 


I really wanted to move there because it had a balcony and was still in a great neighborhood.


But they would never have any openings. According to the leasing agent, people “loved it there” and “never moved.” So I was bummed, but still hopeful.


During this time I had gotten a new job too! Paying way more money and with way more benefits. And I was still working from home.


I had started smoking less and I found myself starting to distance myself from Mr. Brown Eyes. 


The more I listened to him talk, the more I didn’t trust him. 


I mean, I hadn’t trusted him for a while, but it was becoming more and more clear that we weren’t going to work out.


I was in therapy for the first time too and she was really helping me to see that our relationship was not this fairytale I pieced together in my head. 


She helped me see that there would be no marriage, no babies, no happy ending, because I didn’t trust him and he didn’t trust me either.


So after a few weeks, I called him and told him we should end things.


He agreed, I ended up blocking him, and we haven’t talked since.


It’s been two years.



Things were looking up for me, but that apartment I wanted still wasn't available. I looked around at others but nothing really jumped out at me. 


Then one day I thought out the blue… what if I moved out of state?


Initially I thought of Portland, since my Mom was there.

And I considered Georgia too since I had family there and a best friend.


I spent the next few nights looking up apartments and next thing you know, I was packed up and moving to Georgia! It really came out of nowhere but was the best thing I could have ever done.


Granted when I moved down here I did buy weed a couple of times, but it was way more spread out. Then when I ran out, I just didn’t re-up.


I would smoke with my friends here and there, but eventually that fell off too.


And now I am proud to say that it’s been a whole year since I’ve smoked weed.


To be honest, I think a change of environment, having friends who respect my boundaries, and a determination to change, is what really got me to stop smoking weed.


And of course, the Lord.

He knew I was serious about changing my ways and gave me the strength to do it.


Now I can be around people who smoke weed and not even crave it. 


I can eat without it. 


I can go out without it. 


And it’s no longer a factor in my life.


I haven’t hit the blunt, puffed a pen, or ate an edible in a whole year and it feels great to achieve this milestone.



Now again, I didn’t write this to convince you not to smoke.

Because again, I don’t care what you drink, smoke, or snort. 


But I will tell you this, old habits really do die hard. But it is possible.


Whether it's weed, that relationship you keep going back to, liquor, overspending, overeating.

Whatever it is, if you want to stop… you can stop. 


And I 100% believe in you.


Literally just in February of 2022, I was outside my apartment in Chicago while a blizzard was going on. Trying to flick my lighter so I could smoke some weed. 


Flurries all in my eye. Could barely see!


But I wanted to get high.


Now I’m here in Georgia.


And my apartment has a balcony, so smoking wouldn’t be an inconvenience at all. But I'm simply not interested.


So if I can break a hard habit, you can too.


Til next time, peace. 

@Jalyssa_DoubleU