Tracie Egan Morrissey articulates it well:
Last year I wrote a post about how I’m a mother that smokes pot, but I published it anonymously because I wussed out at the last minute. It struck me as a pointless measure, even at the time, because it’s not like I’d ever kept my weed habit a secret before [see above, and also in Pot Psychology the book]. But that was back when I was a new mom and cared about the kind of new-mom shit that I roll my eyes at now, like sterilizing binkies that fall on the floor or having a couch without stains all over it. Frankly, I’m ashamed of my own shaming. (BTW, this is your official notice that “stoner-shaming” has been added to the shame docket of feminism.)
When people think of a “stoner” they think of someone who sits around all day, with greasy hair, in pajamas on the couch, watching TV or playing video games, laughing at stupid shit, and eating junk food. It’s a method of relaxation for males that is totally acceptable and even kind of endearing. For women, it’s a different story. We aren’t allowed to be lazy and we sure as shit aren’t supposed to be sitting around eating junk food.
Previous Dish on women in the cannabis closet here. Update from a female reader:
I agree with Tracie’s point that society thinks women aren’t supposed to be lazy; we’re supposed to be cooking and cleaning and keeping house. And that’s SO MUCH more enjoyable when stoned.