Posted in Personal Essay

The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and No, I Don’t Mean Children)

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Confessions of a Former Plant Killer

Let’s be honest, my thumbs have never been blessed with the magical ability to nurture life. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve single-handedly funded the succulent section at my local grocery store with my repeated (and failed) attempts. But something strange happened this past year. Call it pandemic boredom, a desire for something green in my life that wasn’t my laundry pile, or maybe just a touch of insanity – I became a plant parent.

plant here, a peace lily there. But soon, my apartment started to resemble something between a greenhouse and a jungle gym for my cat (who, thankfully, seems to have developed a healthy fear of anything leafy). But here’s the thing: I’m not complaining.

Turns out, being a plant parent comes with a whole host of unexpected joys:

  1. Stress Relief: Forget meditation apps. There’s something incredibly therapeutic about digging in the dirt, pruning leaves, and just generally fussing over my green babies. Plus, watching something you’ve nurtured actually grow is strangely satisfying.
  2. Home Decor Superpowers: Move over, throw pillows. Plants are the ultimate home decor hack. They add color, texture, and life to even the drabbest of corners. Who needs expensive art when you have a majestic monstera?

Learning to Speak Plant: A Crash Course in Plant Care

Now, I’m not going to lie. There have been casualties along the way. (RIP, Philodendron Phil. You will be missed.) But with each wilted leaf and droopy stem, I’ve learned a valuable lesson about the delicate balance of water, light, and just the right amount of babying that plants need to thrive.

These days, I can proudly say I can distinguish between overwatering and under-watering (most of the time), and I even know the difference between perlite and vermicast (don’t ask me to spell it, though). Who knew dirt could be so complex?

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