I started toking my junior year of high school. I managed to never get caught while I was still living at home, and later on when I was about 21 I told my mother I smoked. Having been a teen in the late 1960's, she was totally cool with it. She told me not to tell my dad though, as he is completely anti-drug (I'm happy to say he's beginning to change his stance these days because of the way medical marijuana patients are being treated). She also told me to be careful and only buy from people I knew and could trust. Within a year of telling her we shared a joint one evening when she came to visit me. It was a great bonding experience, and really helped our relationship. She was so strict with me growing up that I felt a lot of antipathy for her for a long time because I felt like I had missed out on a lot of stuff as a child. When I went through a nasty divorce a couple of years ago, was really depressed, and had very little money she actually gave me some cash specifically so I could buy some weed to help me get through everything. Sometimes parents freak out over marijuana, but sometimes they surprise you with unexpected compassion and understanding.