From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent
Let’s be honest, folks. I used to be a plant killer. A serial succulent assassin. My apartment looked more like a graveyard for greenery than a haven for houseplants. I’d buy a perfectly healthy fern, give it a sunny spot, water it…occasionally…and then watch in horror as it slowly transformed into a crispy, brown shadow of its former self.
Unexpected Joy #1: Plants Are the Chillest Roommates Ever
Unlike my previous roommate who insisted on playing death metal at 3 a.m., my plants are the epitome of chill. They don’t steal my food, hog the bathroom, or complain about my questionable karaoke skills. In fact, they’re downright therapeutic to be around.
There’s something incredibly calming about tending to plants. Watering them, dusting their leaves, even just sitting near them and appreciating their quiet beauty—it’s a mini-meditation session in disguise. Plus, they never judge my ratty sweatpants and messy bun look, which is a major bonus in my book.
Unexpected Joy #2: My Home Décor Game Just Leveled Up
Remember that awkward, empty corner in my living room that used to scream “I don’t know what to do with this space”? Yeah, that’s gone. In its place stands a majestic Monstera Deliciosa, proudly unfurling its giant, holey leaves like a green, living tapestry.