I Quit Weed for My Kid. Then I Realised It Was Also for Me.

It Wasn’t His Business, I Thought

My son is the kind of kid who notices everything. What you’re wearing, whether you seem distracted, whether you actually laughed at the thing he said or just made the sound.

I’d been smoking since I was nineteen. Daily since my mid-twenties. It was just the furniture of my life by the time he was born. I didn’t think much about it.

I smoked outside, always. He never saw it. I kept the times predictable and the amounts reasonable, whatever that means. I’d convinced myself it wasn’t his business.

The Night He Asked About My Eyes

Then one night about a year ago, he woke up and came into the living room while I was there after putting him to bed. He asked me why my eyes looked different.

I said I was tired. He looked at me for a moment and then said okay and went back to his room. Four years old.

That was it. No dramatic revelation. Just that look.

I quit two weeks later. Not cold turkey; I took about a week to taper off. Told my partner what I was doing. She didn’t say much, which said a lot.

The First Month: White-Knuckling

The first month was mostly just white-knuckling. Sleeping badly, eating too much, generally not a very fun person to live with.

I was doing it for him, and that helped when things felt pointless. Having a reason outside yourself is useful when the internal motivation isn’t there.

Month Two: Things Got Their Texture Back

But somewhere around month two, something else started coming into focus.

I started noticing that I had opinions about things again. Not big things, small ones. A strong preference for one route over another on a walk. An actual reaction to a film, not just a willingness to sit through it.

I’d been flattened for longer than I’d understood, and the texture of things was coming back.

Looking back, my first months followed the three phases most daily smokers go through after quitting.

My first months, phase by phase

1. Release: day 1 to about day 5After a week of tapering, I stopped. Sleeping badly, eating too much, mostly white-knuckling.
2. Resilience: day 5 to about week 3 or 4Still the first month and still not much fun to live with. Doing it for my son helped when things felt pointless.
3. Clarity: until about week 7Around month two, I had opinions again. Small ones, like a route on a walk or a real reaction to a film.
4. After thatAbout ten weeks in, a Saturday at the park where I felt his hand fully. A few months in, my partner noticed the louder version of me coming back.

Not Through Glass

There was a Saturday about ten weeks in where I took him to the park. Nothing special. We found a stick he wanted to bring home and I let him, even though I knew it was going to live in the hallway forever.

On the way back he held my hand without me asking. I felt it fully. Not through glass.

I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this without sounding like an advertisement for quitting. I’m not saying it will fix your life. I’m saying: I had been half-present for years.

I’d built a whole rationalization system around it. Smoking outside, keeping it to evenings, it’s not that serious. And the rationalization was so smooth that I hadn’t noticed how much was missing until some of it came back.

My son still notices everything. What’s different now is that more of what he’s noticing is real.

What My Partner Said

A few months after I quit, my partner said something that stuck with me. She said she’d grieved the person she thought she was going to have, then gotten used to a quieter version.

And now she wasn’t sure what to do with the louder one coming back. She said it without judgment. More like an observation.

I didn’t have a good response to that, and I still don’t. But I think it was true.

Who I Really Quit For

My son asked me recently why I stopped. He must have heard someone mention it. I said I just decided to. He thought about this and said that made sense, and went back to what he was doing.

Four years old, still notices everything.

I’d like to tell you I quit entirely because of him. It’s cleaner that way. But the truth is that somewhere in the process it became clear that I’d needed to do this for myself for a long time and hadn’t had a reason I could hold onto.

He was the reason I could hold onto. That’s not nothing. That’s actually a lot.

If you are a parent thinking about quitting, reading about what long-term quitting actually looks like might help you know what to expect.

And if you want a clear plan for the first weeks, our Cannabis Detox Program takes you through the Release, Resilience and Clarity phases one step at a time.