Updated: November 27, 2019
Originally Published: November 27, 2019
For most of my life, I was firmly in the camp of “give me a houseplant, and it’s doomed.” Any green life that entered my home seemed to inevitably meet an untimely end as I neglected it, allowing it to wither away. But a few months back, on a whim, I decided to buy a few plants for my new place after my divorce. I was wandering through the garden section of a home improvement store, looking for a distraction from what had been a particularly rough day. The lush greenery was so inviting that I couldn’t resist bringing a few plants home.
What Does “Home” Truly Mean?
It’s not just a physical space, and even when it is, it can often feel transient and uncertain. As I walked through the garden section, I was grappling with the idea of home. The new house I moved into after separating from my partner felt right from the moment I entered. It was an older, sturdy cinder block ranch with ample room. Yet, it was still so new to me.
My new home is just a short drive from the one I shared with my ex, the place we crafted together as a family. That house, beautiful and modern, occasionally flickered in my mind whenever I thought of “home.” Leaving that perfect space was not only necessary; it was the only choice I could make. I left because I am queer, and though I don’t carry guilt for my identity, it was still my actions that led to our family’s division.
A New Beginning
On that day in the garden section, I wasn’t consciously reflecting on these complexities. Instead, my main thought was, “My sunroom would look amazing filled with plants.” As a divorced parent, I quickly learned that a home can feel incredibly lonely without my kids around. On my days without them, there are no meals to cook, no bedtime stories to read, and no homework to check. While solitude can be therapeutic, I longed for the joy of caring for someone, and my new plants seemed like the perfect solution.
I brought my impulsive purchases home and placed them on the beige tiles of my sunroom, unsure if I had made the right choices. With three walls of north-facing windows, I wondered if that would provide enough light—considering my history of plant murder, I was skeptical. Undeterred, I searched thrift stores for pots, uncertain if I was making the right decisions. Some pots lacked drainage holes, and I had no clue if that would prove fatal for my new green companions.
The Therapeutic Benefits of Houseplanting
As I gradually acquired more plants and pots, I discovered that they represented more than just a way to occupy my time or fulfill a nurturing instinct. Caring for these plants turned out to be a form of therapy. Each evening, as I watered them, I felt the tension of the day melt away. Most of my plants reside in the sunroom, where I often work on my laptop. As I type this, I’m sitting right here, surrounded by my little jungle.
The soothing effects of nurturing plants are backed by science. Studies indicate that indoor greenery can alleviate stress, improve air quality, and even enhance mood and focus. While these benefits are impressive, I would continue to grow my collection regardless. The happiness I gain from tending to my plants is reason enough to keep expanding my home oasis. My children enjoy helping with plant care when they’re with me, and they get excited about new additions that appear while they stay at their dad’s.
When they’re not around, sitting in my sunroom sanctuary makes missing them a bit easier. If you’re interested in exploring more about home and family dynamics, check out this post on home insemination here. For authoritative insights on the topic, you can also visit Intracervical Insemination or explore resources at UCSF’s Center.
Conclusion
In summary, what began as a simple impulse purchase blossomed into a fulfilling hobby that has brought joy and tranquility to my life post-divorce. Houseplanting has become a source of comfort, healing, and even a way to connect with my children, making my new house feel more like home.