The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant



My Brown Thumb Gets Schooled

Let’s be honest, I’m about as naturally gifted at keeping plants alive as a fish is at riding a bicycle. My past attempts at plant parenthood resembled a graveyard of good intentions—wilted leaves, droopy stems, and that unmistakable aroma of defeat. So, imagine my apprehension when my well-meaning friend gifted me a perfectly healthy ZZ plant for my birthday. “It’s impossible to kill!” she chirped, completely oblivious to my track record.

Well, challenge accepted, plant friend. I was determined to prove that even I, the self-proclaimed Black Thumb of the Century, could keep this resilient soldier alive. Little did I know, this little pot of green would teach me more than just how to not kill foliage. This, my friends, was the beginning of my unexpected education.

Plant

Now, I’m more of an “instant gratification” kind of gal. I like my coffee brewed in seconds and my Amazon deliveries yesterday. But this ZZ plant? Oh, it operated on its own sweet time. I’m talking glacial pace, people.

At first, I hovered over it like an anxious parent, watering it every other day, convinced I saw a new leaf about to sprout (spoiler alert: it wasn’t). But slowly, I started to realize that growth takes time. Not everything blossoms on my demanding timeline. Sometimes, you just gotta chill, step back, and let nature do its thing. Who knew a plant could teach me the art of patience?

Lesson #2: Embracing Imperfection, Inspired by a Houseplant

Here’s the thing about us humans: we’re obsessed with perfection. Flawless Instagram feeds, perfectly curated lives—it’s exhausting! My ZZ plant, however, couldn’t care less about societal expectations. It grew a little wonky, with leaves twisting this way and that. It had scars from a close call with my cat (don’t ask).

But you know what? Those imperfections made it unique, real. And slowly, it dawned on me: maybe my own quirks and imperfections weren’t so bad after all. Maybe they were what made me, well, me. Deep stuff, right? All thanks to a slightly lopsided houseplant.