It Started With a Droop…
We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a true-crime documentary, when a flash of green catches your eye. Your once-vibrant monstera, usually basking in the glory of its own leafy magnificence, is… drooping.
Okay, maybe “drooping” is a strong word. It’s more of a subtle lean, a silent plea for attention. But in that moment, I swear, it felt like my plant was giving me the side-eye. You know, the one that says, “Really? Another night of instant ramen and reality TV?”
Then there’s Kevin the cactus. Yes, he has a name. And yes, I know I shouldn’t have gotten attached to a plant that thrives on neglect. But how could I not? He was a gift, a tiny symbol of resilience and low-maintenance living.
That is, until he started to shrivel. Now, I’m no botanist, but I’m pretty sure cacti aren’t supposed to resemble prunes. It was as if Kevin was saying, “Look, I appreciate the thought, but you’re watering me with the same frequency you text your mother. We need to talk.”
Plant Parent Paranoia: Are All Houseplants Judging Us?
I started to see it everywhere. My friend’s peace lily, perpetually wilting despite her best efforts, seemed to mirror her own anxiety about an upcoming presentation. My sister’s overwatered succulents, drowning in a sea of good intentions, felt symbolic of her tendency to overcommit.
Maybe I’m reading too much into things. Maybe it’s all just a coincidence. Or maybe, just maybe, our houseplants are silently judging our every move, their growth (or lack thereof) a direct reflection of our own chaotic lives.