Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: overwatering plants

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    My Brown Thumb and the Fern That Changed Everything

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have never been particularly gifted in the plant department. In fact, I’m pretty sure I could kill a cactus in a desert. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a cheerful little potted fern, I accepted it with a mixture of delight and trepidation. Delight, because who doesn’t love a splash of green in their home? Trepidation, because, well… my track record.

    Plant Whispering (and Less is More)

    My first instinct was to shower my new leafy friend with attention. I watered it religiously, rotated it for optimal sunlight, and even serenaded it with my questionable rendition of “Here Comes the Sun” (don’t judge, the plant seemed to enjoy it… at first). However, my overzealous care resulted in a soggy, wilting mess. It turns out, even plants need their space.

    Just when I was about to accept defeat and invest in some high-quality plastic foliage, a seasoned plant parent (read: my neighbor with the magical green thumb) intervened. “You’re drowning the poor thing!” she exclaimed, gently taking the pot from my grasp. “Sometimes, less is more.” She proceeded to teach me the delicate art of plant whispering: observing, listening (metaphorically, of course), and responding to its needs rather than projecting my own insecurities onto it. Who knew?

    Lesson 2: Embracing the Pauses and Growth Spurts of Life

    With my newfound wisdom and a slightly less heavy hand, I nursed my fern back to health. It wasn’t always smooth sailing. There were periods of stagnation, where it seemed like my plant was frozen in time. Then, out of nowhere, a new frond would unfurl, reaching towards the sunlight with an almost comical enthusiasm.

  • Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)

    Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)




    Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)


    We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, two days into a questionable Netflix binge, when you catch a glimpse of your once-thriving houseplant. Its leaves are drooping, it’s practically begging for water, and you can’t shake the feeling that it’s…judging you.

    My Fiddle Leaf Fig’s Dramatic Intervention

    My journey into the oddly specific paranoia of houseplant judgment began with Ferdinand, my majestic (or so I thought) fiddle leaf fig. He was the crown jewel of my living room, a symbol of my foray into responsible adulthood. Then came the fateful day I forgot to water him. For two weeks.

    I returned from a weekend getaway to find Ferdinand looking less like a majestic jungle king and more like a wilted salad. As I scrambled for the watering can, I swear he sighed dramatically. Okay, maybe not, but the judgmental aura was palpable. That’s when it hit me: Ferdinand was judging my life choices, and honestly, who could blame him?

    water dish for a day? Expect a dramatic fainting episode, complete with theatrically drooping leaves. Dare to move her an inch to the left, away from her preferred sunbeam? She’ll sulk for a week, her growth stunted as if to say, “I see your blatant disregard for my carefully calibrated lighting needs.”

    And don’t even get me started on the time I accidentally overfertilized. Let’s just say Petunia’s silent treatment lasted a solid month. Clearly, I am not living up to her standards of plant parenthood.

    Even Succulents Give the Side-Eye

    You’d think succulents, with their reputation for resilience, would be above such judgment. You’d be wrong. My collection of succulents, affectionately dubbed “The Jury,” have perfected the art of the side-eye.

    One particularly judgmental echeveria, whom I’ve named Gladys, seems to disapprove of my entire existence. Did I leave the blinds open too long, subjecting her to a few extra minutes of sunlight? Gladys will let me know with a withering stare. Did I dare to water her on a Tuesday instead of a Wednesday, like the rule-abiding plant parent I pretend to be? Her disapproval radiates through the room.