Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (And Why You Should Join the Green Thumb Club)
From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent
Okay, let’s be real – I used to be a certified plant killer. I’m talking serial succulent assassin, notorious fern flattener, the whole nine yards. My apartment housed a graveyard of neglected greenery, victims of my forgetfulness and, let’s face it, sheer botanical incompetence. But something changed. Maybe it was a global pandemic, maybe it was a quarter-life crisis, or maybe (just maybe) it was the irresistible charm of a particularly perky peace lily. Whatever the cause, I fell headfirst into the wonderful, wacky world of plant parenthood, and friends, let me tell you, there’s no turning back.
The Joy of Watching Something You Don’t Actively Try to Keep Alive Thrive
Remember that feeling of accomplishment when you kept that Tamagotchi alive for more than a week? (Okay, maybe that’s just me). Well, imagine that feeling, but amplified tenfold, and you’ve got the pure exhilaration of witnessing your plant baby sprout a new leaf. It’s like a tiny green high-five for not killing it!
Suddenly, you’re a proud plant parent, snapping pics of new growth like a stage mom and boasting about your monstera’s latest leaf to anyone who will listen (and probably even those who won’t). Who knew that a little bit of water and sunlight could bring so much joy? (Don’t worry, I’ll spare you the lecture on photosynthesis…for now.)
