The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)



Confessions of a Former Plant Killer

Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always this… green. In fact, I used to be a notorious plant killer. My thumbs were far from green; they were more like a death touch for anything leafy and green. I’d buy a beautiful fern, full of hope and good intentions, only to watch it wither and crumble within weeks. I even managed to kill a cactus once. A CACTUS! It was then I accepted my fate: I was a plant grim reaper.

But something changed last year. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a sudden burst of maturity (doubtful), or maybe, just maybe, it was the adorable little succulent staring at me from the grocery store checkout line. Whatever it was, I brought home that succulent, named him Steve, and braced myself for the familiar pangs of plant-parent guilt. But to my utter shock… Steve thrived.

Plant Parenthood

Seeing Steve flourish sparked something in me. Suddenly, I was invested. I started researching different plant varieties, learning about their individual needs, and actually, you know, watering them consistently. And guess what? They thrived! My once barren apartment transformed into a miniature jungle, filled with vibrant greens and pops of floral color.

But the joys of plant parenthood went beyond aesthetics. Tending to my plants became a source of unexpected tranquility in my otherwise chaotic life. The simple act of watering, pruning, and even just observing their growth brought a sense of peace and accomplishment. Who knew that watching a new leaf unfurl could be so darn satisfying?

My plants also taught me valuable life lessons. I learned about patience, as I waited for stubborn seeds to sprout and blossoms to open. I learned about resilience, witnessing how even the most delicate-looking plants could withstand unexpected storms (or, in my case, accidental drops from the windowsill).

More Than Just Pretty Green Roommates: Plants as Companions

My plants became more than just decorations; they became companions. Each with its own personality (yes, I’m one of those plant parents). There’s Beatrice, the dramatic peace lily who faints dramatically whenever she’s thirsty, and Ferdinand, the stoic snake plant who seems to judge my every life choice (mostly my plant-watering schedule, I suspect).

They’ve even become conversation starters! Friends who once knew me as the plant assassin are now seeking advice on keeping their own green babies alive. Who knew I had it in me to become the “plant whisperer” of my friend group?