Charmee Taylor

Finding Queer Identity Through Weed

I take a deep breath in, and I can feel the sweet smoke go to the back of my throat. I hold on to it like I'm in a desert, and it's quenching my thirst. I exhale. I can breathe, my eyes feel heavy, and suddenly everything melts around me. I can hear background noise like the teacher in Charlie Brown….Womp womp womp womp. I head to my stereo, and give myself permission to turn on King Princess. I listen with a keen ear. I hear her words as they pierce my soul, “I hate it when dudes try to chase me, but I love it when you try to save me, cause I’m just a lady... I’m just a lady.” It repeats to the pulse of my heart beat. I can feel the base pounding from my feet, and suddenly my body starts to move, and I’m dancing like i'm at Woodstock in 1965. I don't know who I am exactly, but in this moment alone, I feel my queerness erupt in me in a way that can only be described as self expression and love. When I close my eyes, I see myself giving myself a hug. As I give this hug to this version of myself, I am a cactus. Like I’m trying to embrace myself in a way that really can't be embraced.