The Day My Fiddle Leaf Fig Rolled Its Eyes (I Think)
Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. You’re going about your day, maybe in your pajamas, maybe singing off-key to Britney Spears, when you catch a glimpse of your houseplant. And in that moment, you just know. It’s judging you.
Okay, maybe not literally “judging.” But there’s something about the silent observation of a houseplant, particularly my notoriously finicky fiddle-leaf fig, Fiona, that makes me feel intensely seen. And not in a good way.
Fiona, my fiddle-leaf fig, is a drama queen. I inherited her from a friend who claimed she was “low-maintenance.” Lies. Fiona requires a precise balance of sunlight, humidity, and water, a balance I’ve yet to achieve.
Take, for example, the Great Overwatering Incident of 2023. Armed with good intentions (and maybe a slightly heavy hand), I’d watered Fiona with what I thought was a reasonable amount. A few days later, her leaves started to droop. Not just a little droop, mind you, but a full-on theatrical, Shakespearean swoon.
“Fiona, darling,” I pleaded, “What’s wrong? Too much sun? Not enough sun? Are you being haunted by the ghost of houseplants past?”
Fiona remained silent, her drooping leaves a testament to my plant-parenting failures.
My Monstera Deliciosa is Leaning: Is it My Fault or His?
Fiona isn’t the only plant in my home casting judgmental vibes. There’s also Kevin, my monstera deliciosa, who seems to have developed a rather unfortunate lean.
Now, I’m no botanist, but I’m pretty sure monsteras are supposed to grow upright, not at a 45-degree angle like they’re auditioning for a role in a Tim Burton film. Every time I walk past Kevin, I swear I see him side-eyeing me, his aerial roots reaching out like accusatory fingers.
“It’s not my fault you’re leaning!” I’d argue, as if Kevin could understand me. “I’m rotating you! I even bought you that fancy moss pole! What more do you want from me?”