Why Cannabis in Our Family Was Never Taboo

For some families, cannabis is a secret.
For others, it’s a phase.
For a lot of people, it’s something they only talk about in hindsight.

In our family, it was none of those things.

Cannabis was never introduced as rebellion or escape. It didn’t come wrapped in fear or fascination. It showed up the same way practical things do — because it helped.

That difference matters.

Long before legalization, long before public conversations shifted, cannabis existed in our home as a tool. Quiet. Unassuming. Functional. Nobody announced it. Nobody centered their identity around it. It was simply something that worked when other options didn’t.

Our grandmother used cannabis balms to manage pain. Not occasionally. Not experimentally. Reliably. The same way someone reaches for a heating pad or a trusted remedy they’ve used for years. There was no ceremony around it. No debate. It helped her move through the day with less discomfort, so it stayed.

Our mother still uses cannabis today. Not to disconnect, not to chase a feeling, but to rest better. To ease physical tension. To quiet the kind of low-level stress that builds up when you’ve spent decades carrying responsibility. Cannabis gave her relief without taking anything away from her clarity or presence.

Watching that, growing up around that, changes how you see the plant.

There’s no mystery to it. No taboo to break. No stigma to internalize. Cannabis becomes what it actually is: something that can support people when used thoughtfully.

That perspective sticks with you.

It also makes a lot of the noise around cannabis feel strange. The overcorrections. The extremes. The need to either demonize it or sell it like a miracle cure. When you’ve seen cannabis quietly improve quality of life across generations, neither of those narratives ring true.

It doesn’t need to be hidden.
It doesn’t need to be glorified.

It just needs to be understood.

Because of that, cannabis was never treated as an escape hatch in our family. It wasn’t about checking out. It was about showing up better. Sleeping through the night. Waking up without stiffness. Being able to focus on what actually mattered instead of constantly managing discomfort.

There was also an unspoken respect that came with it.

You don’t abuse things that help your family function. You don’t turn them into jokes or party tricks. You learn their limits. You learn when they’re appropriate and when they’re not. You treat them with the same care you would anything tied to health and well-being.

That mindset carried forward naturally.

So when people ask why Silly Nice feels different, why it doesn’t lean into shock value or excess, the answer is simple: we didn’t learn cannabis that way.

We didn’t learn it through prohibition fear or college experimentation alone. We learned it in living rooms. In everyday routines. In moments that weren’t dramatic enough to become stories, but important enough to shape values.

That’s why we talk so much about intention.

It’s why we don’t design products meant to be rushed through. Why we encourage people to use less, not more. Why we’re comfortable telling someone, “This isn’t for everyone,” and meaning it in a respectful way.

Because cannabis doesn’t need to prove itself when it’s already proven useful.

Generational use also does something else. It removes the ego from the conversation. Cannabis stops being about you and starts being about care. About how it fits into a larger picture of wellness, connection, and responsibility.

That’s not a mindset you can manufacture later.

It either grows with you or it doesn’t.

Silly Nice exists because cannabis earned our trust over time. It earned it by showing up consistently, quietly, and effectively for people we love. That’s not something you forget. And it’s not something you build a brand on lightly.

We don’t treat cannabis like a trend because it’s been part of our lives longer than most trends last. We don’t treat it like a taboo because we’ve seen what happens when it’s treated with honesty and care.

For us, cannabis has always been about helping people feel more like themselves.

That’s the version we stand behind.
That’s the version we protect.
That’s the version we build with.