Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant Is Secretly Judging Me
The Side-Eye From a Ficus
It all started with a look. You know the one I mean—that subtle tilt of the leaves, the almost imperceptible droop that seems to say, “Really? This is the best you can do?” I swear, my ficus, Ferdinand, has perfected the art of passive-aggressive foliage communication.
I wouldn’t consider myself a terrible plant parent. I mean, I haven’t completely forgotten about Ferdinand and let him wither into a pile of dusty stems (yet). I water him (sometimes), I even give him a little plant food every now and then (when I remember). But Ferdinand, with his glossy leaves and air of quiet superiority, seems to find me utterly inadequate.
One morning, I awoke to find a new development in our relationship: brown spots. They were scattered across Ferdinand‘s leaves like tiny, disapproving frowns. I panicked. Had I overwatered? Underwatered? Was there a secret society of houseplant assassins I didn’t know about?
I frantically Googled “brown spots on ficus leaves,” my fingers flying across the keyboard as if Ferdinand‘s life depended on it (which, let’s be honest, it kind of did, at least for the sake of my ego). The internet, in its infinite wisdom, presented me with a laundry list of possibilities, each more terrifying than the last:
- Root rot (apparently a death sentence for houseplants)
- Spider mites (tiny, bloodthirsty plant vampires)
- Improper humidity levels (whatever that means)
I spent the next hour frantically examining Ferdinand’s leaves, convinced I would find a colony of microscopic arachnids feasting on his life force. I found nothing. The brown spots remained, a silent testament to my horticultural incompetence. I swear I saw a new one forming, right there, as I watched.