Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: Personal Essay

  • The Unspoken Rules of Being a Plant Parent

    The Unspoken Rules of Being a Plant Parent




    The Unspoken Rules of Being a Plant Parent


    Confessions of a Budding Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, folks. I became a plant parent for the aesthetic. That lush, verdant Instagram feed? Totally fell for it. Little did I know, my journey into the leafy world would be less “tranquil oasis” and more “daily emotional rollercoaster.”

    It all started with Herbert, my peace lily. I brought him home, placed him by a sunny window, and waited for my home to transform into a tropical paradise. Instead, Herbert just… wilted. Turns out, being a plant parent is less about posing for pictures and more about understanding the silent language of your leafy roommates. So, after a few (dozen) mishaps, I’ve compiled a list of the unspoken rules of plant parenthood. Trust me, your green babies will thank you.

    1. The Thrill of New Growth (and the Agony of Yellow Leaves)

    Rule number one: every new leaf deserves a celebratory dance. Seriously, that tiny sprout signifies growth, resilience, and your undeniable plant whispering skills. Post it on Instagram! Text your mom! You’ve earned those bragging rights.

    On the flip side, a single yellow leaf? Cue the existential dread. Is it overwatering? Underwatering? A rare fungal disease only documented in the Amazon rainforest? Google becomes your best friend (and worst enemy) as you spiral into a research frenzy, convinced you’re one brown spot away from plant homicide.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    My Thumb Went From Black to…Slightly Less Black

    I’ve never been particularly gifted in the plant-keeping department. In fact, I’m pretty sure I could kill a cactus in a desert. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a peace lily for my birthday, I accepted it with a smile and a silent prayer. I named him Percy (because, why not?), stuck him on a windowsill, and braced myself for the inevitable brown droop of doom.

    But something strange happened. Percy thrived. He sprouted new leaves, stood tall and proud, and even bloomed a few times (which, according to my extensive Google research, is a big deal in the peace lily world). I was amazed. This little green thing, completely dependent on me for survival, was flourishing under my less-than-expert care. It got me thinking: what else could I learn from this resilient little dude?

    Life Gets Rough, Keep Growing

    Percy‘s resilience was inspiring. He weathered accidental overwatering (okay, maybe more than accidental), a few too many days in direct sunlight (oops!), and even a close call with my cat, Mittens, who seems to think all houseplants are catnip-stuffed chew toys. Through it all, Percy bounced back. A little droopy at times, sure, but he always found a way to keep growing.

    It dawned on me that life, much like my cat, can be unpredictable and occasionally harsh. But just like Percy, we have the incredible ability to adapt and overcome challenges. It might not always be graceful (much like Percy’s dramatic drooping after a Mittens attack), but the important thing is to keep reaching for the sunshine, even if it means leaning at a slightly awkward angle.

    Lesson #2: Cultivating Patience – Good Things Take Time

    Plants, as I quickly learned, don’t believe in instant gratification. They grow at their own pace, in their own time. There’s no rushing a new leaf or forcing a bloom. It’s all about patience, consistency, and trust in the natural process.

    As someone who thrives on instant results (thank you, microwave dinners and next-day delivery), this was a tough lesson. But watching Percy slowly unfurl a new leaf, revealing its vibrant green beauty over the course of days, taught me the value of slowing down and appreciating the journey. It’s a lesson I’m still working on (patience is not my strong suit), but Percy serves as a constant, leafy reminder that some things are worth waiting for.

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

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





    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always a natural nurturer. In fact, my thumbs were practically stained black from a long history of accidental plant homicides. Cacti, succulents, even the supposedly “unkillable” snake plant – they all met their demise under my care. I was convinced I was missing the “plant whisperer” gene.

    Then, something changed. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a sudden urge to nurture something other than my caffeine addiction, but I decided to give plant parenthood another shot. I adopted a humble little ZZ plant, promising myself (and the poor plant) that this time would be different. And guess what? It was.

    Plant Parenthood: More Than Just a Green Thumb

    Now, before you roll your eyes and assume this is just another preachy blog about the zen of indoor jungles, let me tell you, being a plant parent is so much more than having a green thumb. It’s about the unexpected joys, the little quirks that make you smile, and the surprising life lessons you pick up along the way.

    1. Conversations with Your Chlorophyll Crew

    Yes, you read that right. I talk to my plants. And before you judge, I’m convinced they listen! Okay, maybe not in the conventional sense, but there’s something therapeutic about whispering words of encouragement to your leafy companions. “You’ve got this, Philodendron Phil!” or “I’m so proud of you, little succulent Steve!” It might sound crazy, but trust me, it’s oddly liberating.

    2. Witnessing Tiny Victories as a Plant Parent

    Remember that feeling of accomplishment when you successfully assembled IKEA furniture? Being a plant parent is like that, but with leaves and photosynthesis! Every new leaf unfurling, every bloom pushing through, it’s a tiny victory that brings an unexpected wave of joy. Who knew a tiny sprout could make you feel like you could conquer the world?

  • The Day My Inner Voice Started Speaking in a British Accent

    The Day My Inner Voice Started Speaking in a British Accent




    The Day My Inner Voice Started Speaking in a British Accent

    From “Dude” to “Darling:” My Brain’s Transatlantic Makeover

    Have you ever woken up feeling like a completely different person? No, I’m not talking about a dramatic haircut or a newfound love for kale smoothies. I’m talking about something far weirder – the day my inner monologue decided to ditch its usual Californian drawl and adopt a posh British accent.

    It all started with a seemingly innocent cup of tea. See, I’m a coffee person, always have been. But on this particular morning, I woke up craving something different. So, there I was, sipping Earl Grey like a character in a Jane Austen novel, when suddenly, a thought, clear as day, popped into my head: “Well, this is simply delightful, isn’t it?”

    I nearly choked on my biscuit (yes, I was going all out). My inner voice, the one that usually sounded suspiciously like Seth Rogan after a pack of cigarettes, had been replaced by something out of Masterpiece Theatre. It was jarring, hilarious, and a little bit alarming, all at the same time.

    British Accent: From Mundane to Hilarious

    At first, I tried to ignore it, hoping it was just a temporary glitch in my neural pathways. But as the day went on, my internal Benedict Cumberbatch wouldn’t be silenced.

    In the grocery store, while comparing brands of cereal: “One must always prioritize fiber, old chap.”

    At the gym, attempting (and failing) to lift a heavier weight: “Oh, bother. Seems I’ve overestimated my abilities, haven’t I?”

    Even my frustration took on a dignified air. During rush hour traffic, instead of my usual string of expletives, I found myself muttering, “Good heavens, is this the extent of human progress? Stuck in this metal contraption like sardines in a tin.”

    Strangely, the British accent seemed to have an oddly calming effect. Instead of honking my horn, I simply sighed and turned up the radio, which, of course, was now only playing BBC Radio 4 dramas and the occasional Adele song.

    Adjusting to My New Voice: Embracing the Queen’s English (or Trying To)

    It’s been a few weeks now, and my inner voice shows no signs of returning to its former, less-cultured self. I’ve learned to embrace it, mostly. Here are a few things I’ve discovered:

    • People definitely look at you strangely when you say “cheerio” instead of “goodbye.”
    • Suddenly, I have an inexplicable urge to start drinking tea with milk.
    • My vocabulary has expanded to include words like “splendid” and “rubbish,” which is both impressive and slightly terrifying.
  • The Day My Inner Voice Became My Outer Voice (and Why I Don’t Regret It)

    The Day My Inner Voice Became My Outer Voice (and Why I Don’t Regret It)




    The Day My Inner Voice Became My Outer Voice (and Why I Don’t Regret It)

    The Infamous Grocery Store Incident

    Picture this: me, standing in the frozen food aisle, desperately searching for the elusive veggie burgers. I’m talking about the kind that actually have some semblance of flavor, not those cardboard imposters. Suddenly, a wild Karen appears, pushing her overflowing cart with the grace of a rhinoceros on roller skates. She rams me into the freezer door with a grunt and then, without a word, starts pilfering the last of the (you guessed it) good veggie burgers.

    Now, my inner voice, let’s call her Sasha Fierce, was LIVID. “Excuse me?!” Sasha boomed, “You just assaulted me for a veggie burger! And not even the good kind, I might add!”

    For years, Sasha had been relegated to the sidelines, offering her colorful commentary solely within the confines of my skull. But something about Karen’s audacity, her blatant disregard for frozen food etiquette, flipped a switch. And for the first time ever, Sasha Fierce became my outer voice.

    Voice (and Unexpected High Fives)

    Let me tell you, watching Karen’s face morph from entitled indignation to wide-eyed shock was almost worth the near-death experience by freezer burn. Did I handle the situation perfectly? Absolutely not. Was my outburst a tad dramatic? Probably. But you know what? It felt damn good.

    And the unexpected bonus? Other shoppers, who had clearly fallen victim to Karen’s reign of grocery-getting terror, looked at me with a newfound respect. One brave soul even offered me a high five! It was then I realized that sometimes, the things we’re most afraid to say are the things others are dying to hear.

    Embracing Authenticity: How to Channel Your Inner Sasha Fierce

    Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating for a world where everyone runs around unleashing their unfiltered thoughts like toddlers on a sugar rush. There’s a time and a place for everything, and tact is still a valuable social currency.

    But since that fateful day in the frozen food aisle, I’ve made a conscious effort to bridge the gap between my inner and outer voice. I’ve learned to:

    • Speak up for myself: No more shrinking violet routine when someone disrespects my time, opinions, or personal space.
    • Embrace authenticity: Life’s too short to pretend to be someone I’m not, even if it makes others uncomfortable. (Sorry not sorry, I will never understand the appeal of Crocs.)
    • Use humor as my weapon of choice: Because honestly, who doesn’t love a well-placed witty retort? (Unless it’s directed at them, then maybe not so much.)
  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant




    My Thumb Went From Brown to Slightly Less Brown

    Let’s be honest, I’m about as far from a “plant person” as you can get. I’m more likely to kill a cactus with kindness (read: overwatering) than nurture a delicate orchid. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a peace lily for my birthday, I accepted it with a smile and a silent prayer.

    plant would teach me some big life lessons.

    Lesson #1: Tough Love for a Thirsty Plant (and Me)

    For the first few weeks, I babied that peace lily like it was a newborn panda. I watered it constantly, sang to it (don’t judge!), and even invested in a fancy plant humidifier. But instead of thriving, my poor lily started to wilt. Its leaves drooped, turning an alarming shade of yellow. Panicked, I did what any sane person would do: I Googled it.

    Turns out, I was loving my plant to death. Too much water was suffocating its roots, and the humidity was just adding insult to injury. The solution? Cut back on the water, let the soil dry out, and give it some space to breathe.

    It felt counterintuitive, but I reluctantly followed the advice. And guess what? My little lily perked right up! It was a valuable lesson in tough love, both for my plant and for myself. Sometimes, the best thing we can do for ourselves and others is to step back, give space, and let things happen naturally.

    Lesson #2: The Peace Lily That Taught Me Patience

    Once I got the hang of not drowning my plant, I settled into a routine. I watered it when the soil was dry, gave it a bit of fertilizer every now and then, and generally tried to ignore it (in a loving way, of course!).

    For months, nothing much seemed to happen. My peace lily stayed the same size, its leaves a healthy green but with no new growth. I started to wonder if I was doing something wrong. Was it stuck? Had I somehow stunted its growth forever?

    Then, one morning, I walked into my living room and nearly tripped over a giant new leaf unfurling from the base of the plant. It had seemingly sprouted overnight, a vibrant symbol of silent progress. I realized that even when I couldn’t see it, my plant had been growing underground, strengthening its roots and gathering the energy it needed to flourish.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant


    From Brown Thumb to Budding Botanist (Almost)

    Let’s be honest, I’m about as far from a “plant person” as you can get. My idea of gardening used to involve watering plastic flowers when they got dusty (spoiler alert: it didn’t help). So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a peace lily for my birthday, I accepted it with a smile…and a healthy dose of internal panic.

    “Don’t worry,” my friend chirped, misinterpreting my panicked silence, “It’s super low-maintenance!” Famous last words, I thought, picturing the poor thing wilting under my less-than-watchful eye.

    Lesson #1: Finding Growth in Stillness

    The first thing that surprised me about my leafy roommate was how much it didn’t need me. Sure, I watered it (sometimes even remembering without the guilt-inducing droop), but it wasn’t like this demanding toddler throwing a tantrum for attention. It just…existed. And you know what? It thrived.

    Watching that little plant quietly flourish taught me a valuable lesson: Growth isn’t always loud or obvious. Sometimes, the most profound changes happen beneath the surface, in the quiet moments of reflection and nurturing. It was a much-needed reminder in our always-on, constantly-connected world.

    Lesson #2: The Power of Tough Love (and Plant Food)

    Of course, my journey with Phil (yes, I named him) wasn’t all sunshine and blooming success. There was the Great Overwatering Fiasco of 2023 (RIP, bottom leaves) and the time I nearly gave up on him during a particularly stubborn case of brown tips.

    But here’s the thing about plants (and maybe even people): Sometimes, a little tough love is what they need to thrive. A gentle pruning here, a dose of plant food there, and suddenly, Phil was back to his vibrant self. It was a powerful reminder that even when things seem bleak, a little bit of care and attention can go a long way.

  • Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Club)

    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Club)

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Okay, let’s be honest. My journey into the lush, vibrant world of plant parenthood started with a graveyard of succulents. I’m talking shriveled leaves, droopy stems, the whole nine yards. If plants had obituaries, mine would’ve said, “Died tragically from overwatering by a well-meaning but clueless human.”

    plant thing one last shot. And let me tell you, I’m so glad I did.

    The Day My Fiddle Leaf Fig (Almost) Spoke to Me

    It all started with a majestic Fiddle Leaf Fig, a plant notorious for its diva-like tendencies. I approached it with the trepidation of a knight facing a dragon, armed with nothing but a watering can and a prayer. But as the weeks turned into months, something magical happened. My Fiddle Leaf Fig, which I affectionately named Fiona, didn’t just survive—she thrived!

    Suddenly, I was a proud plant parent, eagerly checking for new growth like a mother hen counting her chicks. That’s when I realized the unexpected joys of this whole plant thing:

    3 Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent

    • Instant Mood Booster: Walking into a room filled with vibrant greenery is like stepping into a spa for your soul. Seriously, try frowning while surrounded by leafy goodness. It’s impossible!
    • The Thrill of the Grow: Remember the excitement of waking up on Christmas morning? That’s me every time I spot a new leaf unfurling. It’s the little things, people!
    • A Connection to Nature (Without Leaving Your Couch): Okay, maybe I exaggerate a little. But there’s something incredibly grounding about nurturing another living thing, even if it can’t tell you about its day.

    Plants: The Chillest Roommates (and They Come With Benefits!)

    Unlike my previous roommate who insisted on blasting opera music at 3 am, my plants are the epitome of chill. They don’t borrow my clothes without asking, they never eat the last of the ice cream, and they haven’t complained once about my questionable taste in reality TV.

    Plus, they come with a host of other benefits:

    1. Air Purifiers Extraordinaire: Say goodbye to stuffy rooms and hello to fresh, clean air, courtesy of your leafy roommates.
    2. Stress Relievers: Studies show that being around plants can actually lower stress levels. Who needs therapy when you have a Monstera Deliciosa, am I right?
    3. They Make You Look Put-Together: Nothing says “I’m a responsible adult” like a well-tended houseplant. Just ignore the pile of laundry in the corner. Nobody has to know.
  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant


    My Thumb Was More of a Cactus

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my green thumb. In fact, I’m pretty sure my houseplants from college years ago are still having nightmares. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a peace lily for my birthday, I accepted it with a smile and a silent prayer. “Please don’t die, please don’t die,” I chanted internally, picturing yet another funeral for a leafy friend.

    Peace Lily

    To my surprise, the peace lily thrived. It even graced me with a beautiful white bloom! But then life happened. I forgot to water it for a week (or two…okay, maybe three). The leaves drooped, turning an alarming shade of yellow. “This is it,” I thought, “another plant bites the dust.” But then, remembering a random tip from the internet, I gave it a good soak and…it perked back up!

    It was like watching a botanical resurrection. My little peace lily taught me that even when we wilt under pressure, a little TLC can go a long way. We all have the strength to bounce back from setbacks, sometimes we just need a little help (and maybe a reminder to set a watering schedule).

    Lesson #2: Finding Patience in the Growth of a Peace Lily

    Now, I’m a bit of an instant gratification kind of gal. I like to see results, and I like to see them now. But my peace lily? It taught me the art of patience. It didn’t sprout new leaves overnight. It didn’t bloom on command (though I admit I tried talking to it…a lot). It grew at its own pace, in its own time.

  • Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Green Thumb Club)

    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Green Thumb Club)




    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Green Thumb Club)


    Let’s be real – before I became a “plant parent,” my thumbs were about as green as a flamingo in a tutu. I’m talking serial plant killer here. If it photosynthesized, I probably accidentally offed it with too much love (read: water). But then something changed. Maybe it was a global pandemic, maybe it was an early mid-life crisis, or maybe, just maybe, it was destiny. Whatever the reason, I went full-on crazy plant lady, and guess what? I’m obsessed.

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent: My Origin Story

    It all started with a sad-looking succulent named Steve. He was a clearance aisle rescue, a last-ditch effort to prove I wasn’t a complete botanical assassin. To my surprise, Steve thrived. He plumped up, he grew new little succulent babies, he even seemed to… smile? Okay, I might be projecting, but the point is, I kept Steve alive!

    That’s when the floodgates opened. Suddenly, my apartment looked like a greenhouse exploded. Ferns, cacti, even a finicky fiddle-leaf fig (who I lovingly named Fiona and consult with daily) took up residence in my humble abode. And you know what? I kind of love it.

    Plant Parenthood

    Now, you might be thinking, “But I can barely keep a goldfish alive, let alone a plant!” Trust me, I get it. But here’s the thing – plant parenting is more than just keeping something green alive. It’s about so much more:

    1. Stress Relief and Mindfulness

    Remember those adult coloring books everyone was obsessed with? Think of plants as the ultimate coloring book, but instead of markers, you use water and sunshine. Caring for plants is surprisingly therapeutic. The act of watering, repotting, and even just observing their growth is incredibly grounding. It’s like meditation, but with more chlorophyll.

    2. Insta-Worthy Décor (That Cleans Your Air!)

    Let’s be honest, plants are basically living, breathing home décor. They add life, texture, and a pop of color to any space. Plus, they’re like the ultimate air purifiers! Talk about form and function. Now, if only they could do laundry…