Spent most of my twenties wrapped around another person like overgrown ivy that no one thought to manage. Unmanageable in every imaginable way, so naturally, I had to be removed.
What people don’t understand is the strength of an unmaintained vine – how it can grow through houses and split the walls, disrupt foundation, tear a building apart from the inside. A strong vine and an indestructible structure, rock meets hard place, extraction while necessary is easier said than done.
Never had much of a green thumb, couldn’t keep anything alive. The structure always wanted orchids, but the ivy seemed to only destroy everything in its path. A friend bought me plants, I told him that they wouldn’t survive.
The plants given were unique in a way. Extracting a weed, a deeply rooted tree, a long growing vine, is difficult because of its attachment. Almost like a codependency.
Okay, fuck off. Yes, it was codependency.
Small and green and ready to surely meet their demise, rested my eyes on these potted plants and was told that they thrive on darkness, and neglect. Specifically, “if you pay attention to them, they will die.”
I thought the most toxic thing is life was living a life feeling unseen, not cared for, or attended to. The plants began to grow. They proved me wrong. They kept growing, and so did I. I learned to survive, and thrive, without needing much from anyone else.
In short: I learned more from hyper-independent, anti-social, and avoidant plants, than I did from my therapist at the time.
Plants are cheaper. If your therapist doesn’t cut it, talk to your plants.