The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)
Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer
Okay, let’s be real. Before I became a “plant parent,” I was more of a plant grim reaper. My thumbs were anything but green. I’m talking tragic tales of wilted ferns and cacti that mysteriously turned to mush. But then, something changed. Maybe it was a global pandemic, maybe it was a quarter-life crisis, or maybe (just maybe) it was the allure of having something else to keep alive besides myself. Whatever the reason, I took the plunge and adopted my first “real” plant – a ZZ plant named Zephyr (because, you know, they’re supposed to be nearly indestructible).
Fast forward two years, and my apartment now resembles a low-key jungle. And you know what? I kind of love it. It’s not always sunshine and blooming orchids (though there have been a few of those!), but plant parenthood has brought with it a whole host of unexpected joys.
Remember that feeling when you aced that test in school? Or finally beat that impossible level on your favorite video game? That’s the feeling I get every time I see a new leaf unfurl or my peace lily grace me with its elegant white bloom. It’s a small victory, sure, but it’s a victory nonetheless. And for someone who once considered keeping a succulent alive a major accomplishment, it’s a pretty darn good feeling.
The best part? Plants are pretty low-maintenance praise-givers. No need for elaborate pep talks or fancy toys. Just some water, sunlight, and maybe a little chat now and then (don’t judge, we’ve all been there) is all it takes to keep these green companions happy.
Responsibility? More Like Therapeutic Routine
I’ll admit, I wasn’t prepared for the sense of responsibility that came with plant parenthood. These weren’t just cute decorations; they were living things relying on me for their survival. But instead of feeling overwhelming, that responsibility quickly morphed into something unexpectedly therapeutic.
My morning routine now includes a quick check-in with my plant babies. Are they drooping? Thirsty? Looking a little pale? It’s a chance to slow down, be present, and connect with nature, even if it’s just a monstera deliciosa named Monty taking up residence in my living room.