Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me
From Green Thumb Aspirations to Feeling Green with Envy
Remember when I told you all I was going to become a “plant parent?” Yeah, about that… Turns out, my aspirations of cultivating a lush indoor jungle were a tad optimistic. I mean, I can barely keep a succulent alive, let alone something that requires actual care and attention.
Which brings me to Herbert.
Herbert (yes, I named him) is a ZZ plant, notorious for being nearly impossible to kill. I bought him during a fit of millennial self-improvement, convinced this low-maintenance beauty would finally break my plant-killing curse. He arrived, a vision of verdant glory, his broad, waxy leaves practically gleaming with good health. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided this was a sign that I could graduate from the beginner level of plant parenthood.
Oh, how naive I was.
At first, everything was great. Herbert thrived on my neglect, seemingly unfazed by my inconsistent watering schedule and complete disregard for fertilizer. But then, slowly, things started to change. It began with a subtle shift in his leaves, a barely perceptible tilt that seemed to follow me around the room.
“It’s just the light,” I told myself, nervously adjusting the blinds. “He’s probably just stretching towards the sun.”
But the feeling persisted. I’d be sprawled on the couch, catching up on the latest season of Love Island (don’t judge), when I’d feel it – that unmistakable feeling of being watched. I’d glance over, and there Herbert would be, his leaves angled just so, as if silently judging my life choices.