From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent
Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always a natural when it came to plants. In fact, my thumbs were practically stained black from a long history of accidental plant homicides. Cacti, succulents, even the supposedly “unkillable” snake plant – you name it, I’d managed to send it to plant heaven (or maybe plant purgatory?). But then, something changed. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a sudden craving for chlorophyll, but I decided to give plant parenthood another shot. And let me tell you, the experience has been nothing short of… unexpected.
Conversations with My Chlorophyll Crew
Okay, before you write me off as completely bonkers, hear me out. I know my plants can’t actually talk (or can they…?). But there’s something about tending to them that opens up a space for quiet contemplation. I find myself chatting away to my ferns about my day, asking my peace lily for advice (it’s surprisingly non-judgmental), and even celebrating small victories with my monstera (it’s growing a new leaf!). It’s like having a bunch of tiny, green therapists who just get it.