We’ve all been there. Scrolling through Instagram, you see that one friend who’s magically turned their apartment into a verdant oasis. Lush ferns cascade from shelves, succulents sunbathe on windowsills, and then there it is… the statement houseplant. A fiddle-leaf fig, maybe, or a towering monstera, effortlessly filling the room with life and a touch of envy-inducing greenery.
My First Foray into Plant Parenthood
Inspired, I decided to try my hand at becoming a “plant person.” I envisioned myself as a nurturing caregiver, patiently tending to my leafy companions. I imagined peaceful mornings sipping coffee, sunlight dappling through leaves as I misted my thriving indoor jungle. The reality, as you might guess, was… different.
My first mistake? Walking into the plant store with zero clue what I was doing. I ended up with a spiky little cactus, seduced by its minimalist charm and promises of low maintenance. “Perfect for beginners!” the tag boasted. Little did I know, my journey into the world of houseplants was about to be anything but low maintenance.
