From Green Thumb to Green Paranoia
I used to think I had a green thumb. My windowsills overflowed with vibrant succulents, dramatic ferns, and even the occasional, surprisingly resilient orchid. I whispered words of encouragement to my leafy companions, celebrated new growth like a proud parent, and generally considered myself a friend to all flora. But lately, something has changed. My once peaceful plant haven has become a source of low-key anxiety. Why? Because I swear, one of my houseplants is judging me.
Exhibit B: My Houseplant Hates Me, But Loves My Other Plants
To make matters worse, Agnes isn’t my only plant. Oh no, I have a whole botanical jury assembled on my windowsill. And while Agnes is busy judging my every horticultural decision, the rest of them are thriving. My peace lily is practically throwing out new blooms every week. The succulents are plump and content. Even the notoriously finicky air plant is clinging to life with an almost aggressive enthusiasm. It’s like they’re all in cahoots, silently whispering amongst themselves:
- “Did you see Susan forget to rotate the ZZ plant again?”
- “Honestly, the nerve of some people, thinking they can just bring us home and neglect basic plant care.”
- “At least she got the humidity levels right this time. Baby steps, darling, baby steps.”
I’m telling you, the judgment is real. I can feel it in the rustling of their leaves, the subtle tilt of their stems, the way they seem to collectively hold their breath whenever I walk into the room.
Look, maybe I’m being a little paranoid. Maybe I’m projecting my own insecurities about being a “plant parent” onto my leafy roommates. Or maybe, just maybe, my houseplants are silently judging my every move. What do you think? Do your plants judge you too?
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