Just Relaxed Blog

Category: Personal Essay

The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

My Thumb Wasn’t Always Green: A Houseplant Journey

Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my nurturing abilities. I once killed a cactus. A CACTUS, people! So, when my well-intentioned friend gifted me a leafy, vibrant peace lily, my immediate thought was, “Oh no, not another victim.” I imagined a tragic cycle of overwatering, underwatering, and ultimately, a slow, wilting demise. Turns out, I was in for a surprise.

Peace Lily
For weeks, I babied that plant like it was a newborn panda. I watered it religiously, sang it questionable lullabies, and even invested in a special plant light. Yet, it remained stubbornly droopy, its leaves slowly turning a sickly shade of yellow. One day, at the peak of my frustration, I declared, “That’s it! You’re on your own!” I banished the plant to a forgotten corner, vowing to let nature take its course.

Imagine my surprise when, a few weeks later, I stumbled upon the “neglected” peace lily looking positively radiant. Its leaves were a vibrant green, and it even boasted a brand-new shoot! Apparently, my constant fussing had been suffocating the poor thing. Sometimes, a little tough love is all we need to thrive, both in the plant world and in life.

March 10, 2025
The Art of the Fashionably Late Arrival

The Art of the Fashionably Late Arrival

The Day I Embraced My Inner Clock-Challenged Diva

Picture this: It’s my best friend’s birthday dinner, and I’m running through the restaurant, mascara smudged, hair resembling a bird’s nest, apologizing profusely. As I slide into my seat, twenty minutes late, breathless and disheveled, everyone else is calmly sipping their wine, engaged in relaxed conversation. That’s when it hit me – they all looked fantastic, and I looked like I’d wrestled a raccoon. And you know what? They seemed… happy to see me.

late” – because honestly, haven’t we all earned the right to arrive with a little flair?

The Unexpected Perks of Being Fashionably Late

Here’s the thing: being “fashionably late” isn’t about disrespecting other people’s time. It’s about understanding the delicate balance between making an entrance and orchestrating a perfectly timed dramatic pause. It’s about the anticipation, the build-up, the “Where IS she?” whispers that culminate in the grand reveal. Okay, maybe I’m being a tad dramatic. But there are some genuine perks to this lifestyle choice:

Benefit #1: The Calm After the Storm

Arriving slightly after the scheduled time often means sidestepping the initial chaos. Think cocktail parties where everyone’s still awkwardly finding their footing or meetings where the small talk hasn’t quite gotten off the ground. You glide in, a vision of serenity, and effortlessly become the center of attention.

Benefit #2: The Master of Making an Entrance

Let’s be honest, there’s a certain thrill to arriving fashionably late. All eyes turn to you, a hush falls over the room, and for a fleeting moment, you are the star of the show. It’s a confidence boost disguised as a social faux pas.

Benefit #3: The Gift of Perspective

Being slightly removed from the initial frenzy allows you to observe and assess the situation with a fresh perspective. You can gauge the mood, identify key players, and craft the perfect entrance line. It’s like walking onto a stage with a pre-written script – you’re already one step ahead.

Confessions of a Chronically Unpunctual (But Lovable) Friend

Now, before you brand me as the queen of inconsiderate behavior, let me assure you, I have rules. First and foremost, I’m fiercely loyal to my friends. Need someone to pick you up from the airport at 3 am? I’m your girl. Important work deadline? Consider it done, ahead of schedule. But ask me to show up for brunch at 11 am sharp? Well, that’s where things get a little… flexible.

I’ve learned to embrace the humor in my tardiness. I once showed up late to a Halloween party dressed as a “Fashionably Late Fairy” – complete with a clock necklace permanently stuck at 12:15. It was a hit!

March 10, 2025
The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

We all know the stereotype: plant parent, crazy cat lady, insert your preferred harmless eccentricity here. Well, I never thought I’d be the plant person. Give me a bouquet of flowers any day, but a living, breathing thing that relied on me for survival? No thanks, I kill succulents just by looking at them.

How One Little Plant Changed Everything

Then came Herbert. Yes, I named my plant. Don’t judge. He was a birthday gift from my best friend, a sprightly little peace lily in a charmingly chipped pot. My friend, an actual plant whisperer, swore Herbert was low-maintenance. “Just water him when the soil is dry,” she said. “He practically thrives on neglect!” Famous last words.

Herbert seemed content, even perky. Then came the drooping. The yellowing leaves. The distinct feeling that I, a fully grown adult, was failing to keep a houseplant alive. Turns out, “neglect” is a relative term. Who knew plants needed sunlight, too? (Don’t judge me, I’m a work in progress.)

Lesson #1: Faking It ‘Til You Make It With Plant Care

Desperate to save Herbert (and my pride), I turned to the internet, that vast repository of both wisdom and questionable advice. I learned about drainage, fertilizer, and the importance of talking to your plants (don’t worry, I kept it brief). I even downloaded a plant care app, because apparently that’s a thing now.

Slowly but surely, Herbert started to rally. His leaves perked up, regained their vibrant green, and even sprouted a new growth. Was I a natural? Absolutely not. Did I spend an embarrassing amount of time Googling things like “how to tell if my plant needs water” and “can plants get sunburned?” You bet. But I was learning, adapting, and most importantly, keeping Herbert alive.

March 10, 2025
The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

From Brown Thumb to Budding Plant Parent

We’ve all been there. Scrolling through Instagram, you’re bombarded by photos of your friends’ thriving indoor jungles. Lush greenery spills out of every corner, practically photosynthesizing happiness into their perfectly filtered lives. You, on the other hand, consider it a major win if you remember to water your succulent once a month (spoiler alert: I didn’t).

So, when my well-intentioned friend gifted me a – gasp – real houseplant for my birthday, I accepted with a shaky smile and a silent prayer. I named him Percy (he just looked like a Percy, okay?), found a sunny spot by the window, and braced myself for the inevitable plant-parent fail.

Percy was about to school me in more than just keeping a plant alive. He became my tiny green guru, teaching me the art of patience. You see, Percy wasn’t the kind of plant that shot up overnight, showing off his new growth like some botanical show-off. No, Percy was a slow and steady kind of guy. He took his sweet time, growing at his own pace, reminding me that sometimes the best things in life (like a flourishing houseplant or, you know, personal growth) take time.

I’ll admit, there were moments when I considered giving Percy a little “boost.” Maybe some extra fertilizer? A growth lamp, perhaps? But something held me back. Maybe it was Percy’s quiet resilience, or maybe it was the fear of becoming that plant parent, the one who suffocates their greenery with too much love (and Miracle-Gro).

Embracing Imperfection: A Lesson in Letting Go

Then came the inevitable: brown spots. I panicked. Had I overwatered him? Underwatered him? Was it a rare plant disease only found in poorly lit studio apartments? Turns out, I was being dramatic (shocker, I know). Sometimes, leaves just die. It’s part of the natural cycle of life, even for a plant named Percy.

March 10, 2025
Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)

Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood

From Brown Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

Let’s be honest, folks. For years, my thumbs were decidedly brown. I’m talking Sahara Desert-level brown. I once managed to kill a cactus, for crying out loud! The only green things thriving in my apartment were the fuzzy things growing on that forgotten container of yogurt in the back of the fridge.

But then, something magical happened. My well-meaning friend, bless her soul, gifted me a peace lily for my birthday. “It’s almost impossible to kill!” she chirped, completely oblivious to my track record of horticultural homicide. I accepted the plant with a grimace, already planning its eulogy.

plant owner; I was a plant parent. And it was surprisingly fulfilling.

The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood

Since my peace lily conversion, my apartment has transformed into a veritable indoor jungle (okay, maybe a modest jungle gym). And while I still haven’t quite mastered the art of keeping every single leaf alive and kicking (RIP, Philodendron Phil), I’ve discovered a whole slew of unexpected joys in this whole plant parenting gig:

1. Greenery Boosts Your Mood

There’s something about being surrounded by nature’s vibrant hues that just makes you feel good. It’s like bringing the great outdoors inside, minus the pesky mosquitoes and aggressive squirrels. A splash of green can brighten up even the dreariest corner of your apartment, and studies have shown that being around plants can actually reduce stress and boost your mood. Who knew?

2. Plants Provide a Sense of Accomplishment (and Responsibility!)

Remember that feeling of pride when you successfully assembled that Ikea bookshelf without resorting to primal screams? Yeah, nurturing a living, breathing plant to full health is kind of like that, but with fewer Allen keys and more misting bottles. Every new leaf, every vibrant bloom, is a testament to your plant parenting prowess.

March 10, 2025
Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Club)

Let’s be honest, I used to be a walking, talking plant hazard. I’m talking crispy leaves, droopy stems, and enough guilt to fuel a small greenhouse. If plants had obituaries, mine would’ve said, “Died tragically from excessive love (or lack of watering, jury’s still out).”

plant parenthood another try. And let me tell you, it’s been a wild, wonderful, and surprisingly hilarious ride.

Discovering the Unexpected Benefits of Plant Parenthood

Turns out, caring for something other than myself (and my ever-growing to-do list) was exactly what the doctor ordered. Who knew that watching a tiny leaf unfurl could be so darn satisfying? Or that misting my ferns could feel like a meditative ritual?

Plant Community
One of the best parts about becoming a plant parent is the community. From online forums to local plant swaps, there’s a whole world of plant lovers out there just waiting to share their wisdom (and cuttings!). I’ve learned more from fellow plant enthusiasts than any gardening book could ever teach me, and the shared triumphs (and occasional “oops” moments) create a sense of camaraderie that’s both heartwarming and hilarious.

Plus, let’s be real, bragging rights are a thing. And showing off that rare monstera deliciosa you managed to propagate? Pure plant parent pride.

Ready to Embrace the World of Plant Parenthood?

Look, I get it. Plant parenthood can seem intimidating, especially if you’ve got a history of plant-related casualties (no judgment here!). But trust me, the rewards far outweigh the risks. You’ll discover new skills, connect with a supportive community, and find a sense of peace and accomplishment that only comes from nurturing another living thing.

So, what are you waiting for? Grab yourself a plant (maybe start with a low-maintenance one!), join the club, and get ready for a journey filled with unexpected joy, endless entertainment, and maybe even a little bit of dirt under your fingernails.

March 10, 2025
The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Obsession)

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

From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent: My Story

Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always a green thumb. In fact, I was more of a “oops-I-forgot-to-water-you-again” kind of person. My previous attempts at plant parenthood resulted in a graveyard of sad, wilted stems. But then, something changed. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a cry for help from my neglected soul, but I decided to give plants another shot. And boy, am I glad I did!

Plants: The Unexpected Mood Boosters
Turns out, surrounding yourself with greenery does wonders for your mental health! Who knew? There’s something incredibly therapeutic about tending to your plants, watching them grow, and even just being in their presence.

I used to reach for my phone first thing in the morning (don’t judge!). Now, my morning routine includes greeting my leafy companions. The act of checking their soil, misting their leaves, and just appreciating their quiet beauty is surprisingly grounding. It’s like a mini-meditation session that leaves me feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the day.

Houseplants: Your Secret Weapon for Stylish Interior Design

Let’s be real, plants are the ultimate home décor upgrade! Forget expensive art pieces or fancy throw pillows, a few strategically placed plants can instantly transform a room from drab to fab.

I’m talking lush ferns cascading from bookshelves, vibrant succulents adding a pop of color to coffee tables, and even dramatic monsteras becoming the statement piece of your living room. And the best part? They’re way more affordable than a complete interior design overhaul!

March 10, 2025
The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)

Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer

Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always a natural nurturer. In fact, I had a long and storied history of accidental plant homicide. My thumbs were far from green; they were more like a sickly shade of brown. But something changed last year. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was my impending 30th birthday, but suddenly the idea of keeping something alive (besides myself) seemed incredibly appealing.

Fast forward to now, and my apartment looks like a greenhouse exploded. I’m a proud plant parent, and I’m here to tell you why you should consider joining the club – even if you think you’re destined to be a plant killer like I once was.

Plants: The Quirky Roommates You Never Knew You Needed
Forget cats and dogs; plants are where it’s at! They’re the ultimate low-maintenance roommates. No midnight walks, no hairballs, just pure, leafy goodness. Plus, they come with personalities! My peace lily, Ferdinand, is a bit of a drama queen. If he doesn’t get enough water, he wilts like he’s on his deathbed. But one sip, and he’s back to his usual majestic self. Then there’s my spider plant, Stella, who seems to sprout a new baby every time I look at her. She’s basically the plant equivalent of that one friend who always seems to be surrounded by admirers.

The Zen of Repotting: Finding Calm in the Chaos

I know what you’re thinking: “Repotting? That sounds messy and stressful.” Hear me out! There’s something incredibly therapeutic about digging in the dirt, gently loosening the roots, and giving your plant a fresh start in a bigger pot. It’s like a spa day for your green friend… and for you! Plus, the sense of accomplishment when you’ve successfully repotted without killing anything is truly unmatched.

March 10, 2025
Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Join the Club)

Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Join the Club!)

From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always a plant person. In fact, I was the human equivalent of a drought. My houseplants, bless their little stems, didn’t stand a chance. They wilted, they browned, they basically staged a silent protest against my neglect. It was a graveyard of good intentions, fertilized by my forgetfulness.

But then something changed. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a sudden surge of adulting, but I decided to give plants another go. And let me tell you, I was not prepared for the joyride that came with being a plant parent.

Leaf Fig Unfurled a New Leaf (and My Heart Exploded)
You guys, I’m not exaggerating when I say that witnessing a new leaf unfurl on my fiddle leaf fig was akin to seeing my firstborn child take their first steps. Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but the feeling was real!

Suddenly, I understood the hype. That tiny leaf wasn’t just a leaf, it was a symbol of hope, growth, and my newfound ability to keep something alive for longer than a week (sorry, goldfish from my childhood). It was a victory against my former plant-killing self, and I was officially hooked.

Plants: The Chillest Roommates You’ll Ever Have (Except for That One Time…)

Let’s face it, human roommates can be…a lot. They leave dirty dishes in the sink, steal your food, and have opinions about your questionable taste in reality TV. Plants, on the other hand? Low-maintenance, drama-free, and they’ll never judge your questionable life choices.

Except for that one time I almost killed my peace lily. You see, I thought I was being extra caring by giving it a generous amount of water. Emphasis on generous.

Cue the dramatic wilting, the drooping leaves, the panicked Google searches. It turns out, even the chillest roommates have their limits. Luckily, after some emergency plant CPR (aka letting the soil dry out completely), my peace lily forgave me. Crisis averted.

March 10, 2025
Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me

Does My Houseplant Secretly Judge Me? A Hilarious Inquiry

We all have our little quirks, right? Maybe you talk to your pets like they’re tiny humans, or perhaps you sing along dramatically to show tunes when you think no one’s listening. Me? I’m convinced my houseplant is judging me.

The Side-Eye Incident: A Plant‘s Revenge?

It all started innocently enough. I was repotting Phil, my prized monstera deliciosa (don’t judge my plant-naming skills), when I accidentally ripped one of his largest leaves. I gasped, apologized profusely to Phil (yes, I talk to my plants), and quickly moved on, assuming the incident was forgotten.

Later that day, I could have sworn Phil’s remaining leaves were angled slightly downwards, casting a perpetual shadow over the spot where the unfortunate leaf once resided. It was as if he was eternally side-eyeing the empty space, silently accusing me of plant-based homicide. Okay, maybe I was being dramatic, but the seed of doubt had been planted (pun intended!).

March 10, 2025