Looking back at myself a little less than two years ago, I know there was no way in hell I would have believed someone if they showed me who I am today. Though, perhaps I might have had an inkling, because although I was raised in the church, I was never that good of a Mormon. I used to go along with all kinds of silly things the church believes because that was the only truth I had known.

It wasn’t until I started questioning the Book of Mormon stories my teachers fed to me that I learned to start thinking for myself and finding my own version of truth. Once I did, I discovered that a lot of what I thought I knew was misinformation. These are the four most prominent truths I have discovered about cannabis since I left the church.

1. Weed Is Not a Gateway Drug

Growing up I was told that drugs were very addictive. I thought the moment I gave into Satan’s temptations and had a taste would be the moment I lost control. I viewed those who did drugs as inferior, mindless people who wasted themselves away. It wasn’t until I spent time researching weed that I discovered the truth.

I was so afraid of turning into a devil child that I didn’t think to question the information given to me — though to be fair the Mormon church is very clever at keeping devout followers from questioning anything. As the Book of Mormon teaches, Satan makes evil appear as good, and good as evil. Despite having smoked cannabis now, I can still say I wouldn’t want to use any substance without researching it first. Weed may have opened my eyes to a new perspective on drugs, but I don’t feel inclined to try anything I am not comfortable with.

2. It’s Good for You

My first time smoking weed was a time in my life when I felt very alone and scared. I still had the nagging notion of guilt that partaking of weed would result in being cast into spooky Mormon Hell, even though I had proudly strut out of the church parading exposed thighs and shoulders, giving no fucks. I smoked five bowls with my friend and I didn’t even know I was high until he pointed it out to me, which was followed by an overwhelming feeling of calmness.

I remember how strange my voice had sounded to me because it did not have an abrasive undertone. I hadn’t experienced this in such a long time that I had forgotten what it felt like to relax. The weed had healed me, and through months of arduous re-thinking I was able to restore my soul and re-enter a state of mind I had forgotten I missed. It was a very spiritual experience that I will never forget, and I am very thankful for it.

3. The Stoner Stereotype Is Anything but True

When I imagined stoners I would make fun and use the hackneyed saying that we’ve all heard, “Yeeuuuhhh, 420 dudes!” I was a bit annoyed when my friend sent me a famous link to Reddit, explaining cannabis in religious sounding vernacular ( I need not explain why anything religious/cult sounding would make me feel uneasy at the time).

Even then, reading it shattered my past prejudices against weed. If the person who wrote those words could articulate with such eloquence how they viewed smoking as sacred, then how could they be unintelligent or evil like I thought? Later as I had more experiences in the weed world I discovered that stoners are some of the most down to Earth, interesting people out there — and I could be one of them!

4. It Doesn’t Change People (In a Bad Way)

Back before I went ex-mo on the church’s ass, a friend of mine confessed to me that he was considering smoking weed for the first time. I immediately began to freak out, ignorantly trying to convince him that he would change if he smoked weed. I thought he would become addicted and never talk to me again unless I became one of his stoney friends.

It is obvious that my fear had driven me to come to an irrational conclusion (as religion has had a tendency to make people do). Well, about a year later this same friend smoked me out for my first time, and since then neither of us has changed — at least not in a satanic goat-like manner, as Mormons might expect. Smoking has just given me a chance at a new perspective, from which I choose to quietly observe thoughts and actions that are my own, not one’s that have been chosen for me.