We’ve all been there. You know, staring into the abyss of a half-eaten pint of ice cream at 2 am, questioning your life choices. But what if the silent judgment you feel isn’t coming from your reflection in the fridge light, but from something…leafier? Something…greener? Something…rooted in a pot on your windowsill?
The Day My Plant Became My Harshest Critic
It all started innocently enough. I was gifted a beautiful, leafy Calathea—let’s call him Bruce—for my birthday. I, a self-proclaimed plant enthusiast (read: I can keep succulents alive…sometimes), was ecstatic. I envisioned Bruce thriving in my care, a verdant symbol of my responsible adulthood.
Dating App Disasters: Proof My Plant Has Opinions?
Picture this: I’m on the couch, scrolling through profiles with the same enthusiasm I reserve for grocery shopping on a Sunday. Bruce, perched on the coffee table, seems particularly perky. Then, I swipe right on a guy whose bio reads “Looking for my gym partner!” Bruce’s leaves instantly curl inwards. Coincidence? I think not.
This pattern continued. Bad financial decision? Droopy leaves. Cancelled workout? Suspiciously dry soil. Overthinking a text message from a potential suitor? You guessed it, Bruce looked like he needed a stiff drink (of water, of course).
Is It My Plant…Or My Own Inner Critic?
Now, I’m not saying Bruce is actually judging me (or am I?). But, my very amused therapist suggested that maybe I’m projecting my own anxieties onto my houseplant. Perhaps, she mused, I see Bruce’s well-being as a reflection of my own life choices. Healthy plant, healthy me. Unhappy plant, uh oh.