Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Judging My Life Choices

Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Judging My Life Choices

We’ve all been there. You’re scarfing down leftover takeout at 2 AM, scrolling through dating apps with the enthusiasm of a bored panda, and suddenly you lock eyes with IT. Your houseplant. Judging you.

The Side-Eye Heard ‘Round the Living Room

It all started innocently enough. I adopted Ferdinand the Fiddle Leaf Fig during the pandemic, convinced that nurturing another living thing would somehow make me a better person. For a while, things were great. Ferdinand flourished under my care (or perhaps in spite of it). I even started talking to him, mostly about my relationship woes, which, in retrospect, might have been where things went south.

You see, Ferdinand has this way of subtly tilting his leaves whenever I do something questionable. Like that time I stayed up until 3 AM watching TikToks of cats falling off furniture (don’t judge, they were hilarious!). As I cackled at my phone, I swear I saw one massive leaf slowly turn, like a disapproving aunt at a family reunion.