Elise Peterson was six months pregnant, gallery hopping in Chelsea in a pair of her mother's old Stan Smiths, when the existential crisis hit: she was about to be someone's mother, and she wasn't sure she'd still want to hang out with herself. So she started collecting the stories of women she admired, and those conversations became Cool Moms (@heycoolmoms), a storytelling platform for mothers who prioritize themselves too.

Elise has lived several lives before this one — sex columnist, visual artist shown in museums and galleries internationally, illustrator of The Nightlife of Jacuzzi Gaskett and How Mamas Love Their Babies, the first children's book to depict a sex worker parent.

Cannabis looks different for Elise right now than for most of our spotlights: after smoking consistently from 14 through early motherhood, she's on a hiatus, and she's honest about why. We talked about building a room instead of standing at the front of it, what's actually shifted for mothers and weed, back-to-school exhaustion, and what she'd tell a new mother who's terrified her whole identity is about to disappear. 

COOL MOMS started from a specific fear — losing your identity postpartum. Do you remember the moment you decided to make something out of that instead of just sitting in it? Can you describe it?

I was gallery hopping in Chelsea with a friend, six months pregnant, wearing a pair of my mother's old Stan Smiths, as one does in 2017. Seeing my mother on my feet catapulted me into a full existential crisis. I was going to be someone's mother much sooner than I felt ready for. Would I still feel like me? Would I still want to hang out with me? Would I still be cool?

So I started seeking out the stories of women I admired, personally and professionally. I remember sitting in Mara Hoffman's office (she took my pregnancy photos and we had grown close during that time in NY), and she told me she wasn't the kind of mom who could play with toys for hours, and she was okay with that. I felt so relieved. It was a series of moments like that one, realizing I could do this my own way.

The conversations felt too good, too important to keep to myself. So I did the millennial thing, and started a podcast.

You've said you never wanted to be a talking head of parenting. What does hosting look like when the goal is a platform, not authority?

It looks like liberation. My own liberation from being the voice of anyone but myself.

I never wanted to be the expert standing at the front of the room telling other mothers how to do this. I wanted to build the room. Hosting, to me, means handing the mic to women who are actually living the questions, not performing the answers. My job isn't to have it figured out, it's to ask a good question and then get out of the way.

The platform is the point. Not me. If Cool Moms ever became about my authority instead of our collective permission, I'd have failed the whole premise of why I started it.

You've lived a lot of lives creatively — collage, audio, installation, two children's books, brand strategy. Do those feel like separate practices or one practice in different outfits?

It's all storytelling. I'm doing the same thing every time, taking something true and finding the shape that makes people feel it. The outfit changes. The practice doesn't.

The podcast moved with you from Brooklyn to LA. Did the conversations change? Are cool moms different on the West Coast?

Actually art moved me from Brooklyn to LA. I got a chance to work on an installation , it paid nicely, and I had a massive studio to work from. I pushed myself to keep going with Cool Moms through the transition of the move. What I've observed in hosting Cool Moms on both coasts, is that moms on the west coast tend to bring their kids out more. They are seeking more family based programming (more of that coming!) while moms on the east coast leave the kids and are ready for a night out.

What does your back to school season look and feel like?

I am exhausted. I am pushing to expand Cool Moms programming to DC, NY and continue to build in LA with my partner in Cool Moms - Sarah Kim. My son is in a new city, misses old friends, and honestly I feel the same way.

Did you ever get any formal cannabis education? What did that look like?

It was real trial and lots of errors on the cannabis front.

What's your cannabis routine nowadays, and how does that play into your motherhood experience?

Nowadays I've taken a bit of a hiatus. I've smoked pretty consistently from 14 through early motherhood. So now I'm raw dogging life. I think once I feel more inner peace I'll be able to enjoy it again. Maybe not?

Weed and motherhood still come loaded with judgment in a way that a glass of wine doesn't. Has that shifted at all in the eight years you've been having these conversations — and do moms talk about it differently off-mic than on?

I interviewed Ricki Lake about her new cannabis strain and how she went from full-on Nancy Reagan to a cannabis advocate. So yeah, I'd say it's changed a lot. Mothers, like many folks, are exploring a multitude of ways to feel good in their minds, bodies, and spirits. For many, cannabis is that. I've had lots of moms post-interview offer to spark up, and I love that people have become more comfortable in their choices.

I'm actually really excited, I'm sitting down with dame founder Alex Fine at Ace Brooklyn this November, and she's a big pro-cannabis mom herself. I have a feeling that conversation is going to go there.

What would you tell a new mother who's in the exact spot you were in in 2018 — passionate about her work, terrified it's about to evaporate?

It will. Your work, your identity, the version of you that feels most like you, it's going to evaporate for a minute. And then it comes back. Familiar, but different. Be ready to receive her.