I’ve heard from several sources that women’s bodies change in their 30s. I’ve also heard how many women struggle with PMS symptoms. For a long time, I knew these things from somewhat of an outsider’s perspective… until I reached my 30s. But more specifically, I didn’t know how real it could get until the past year or so.
I blamed much of what I was experiencing on COVID-induced anxiety and a stressful job, but once I started tracking my symptoms, I realized they were related to my cycle. Oh, so this is what PMS feels like! For an entire week, sometimes two, I can hardly function. The exhaustion and crying over every little thing and feeling like the world is crashing down around me and nobody loves me and I’m all alone. My goodness! PMS intensifies the anxiety and deepens the depression (which typically isn’t that bad for me).
I wanted to throw all of my plants away a few weeks ago. Every one of them. I wanted them gone. I felt like I was failing them, and I didn’t want to take care of a single living thing on this planet anymore. Eventually, I got over that. However…
Sometimes I still want to throw some of my plants away. I’m more likely to give them away than throw them out, but that’s not the point. I’ve been caring for most of my plants since 2017 because my dad got stuck with them after my grandmother’s funeral. My dad is not a person who takes care of plants, so I took it upon myself because I just couldn’t let them die too. Eventually, some of them did die (and I took it very hard), but I still had a few alive, which I propagated to make more. I also added to the collection by buying a nerve plant, accidently breaking a limb of my mom’s plumeria and putting it in dirt to not be wasteful, and planting lemons.
Now, though, when I look at my plants, I have no desire to propagate them and make more. Some of them I even want to combine back together so there aren’t so many containers around here.
I have tomato seeds wrapped in a wet paper towel in a plastic sandwich bag and the butt of romaine lettuce in a small bowl of water sitting on the windowsill in my office. I plan to plant cucumber and mango as well. And as much as I would love to see these plants grow food, I’m also wondering if I’m up for the challenge.
I’ve been a plant mom for five years. I thought I’d always want to keep them growing and add more to the collection, and I feel bad for wanting to give it all up. I feel like I’m not allowed to give it all up. For my grandma. For myself. I feel like I have to keep going. Why do I feel so committed to plants? I mean, they do look nice around the house. They are bright and green and add a little life to the spaces they are in. But what if I decided to just get rid of them?
There are three I would definitely keep: 1) “Little C” (you gotta check Instagram to see how big she’s gotten), 2) My big peace lily, and 3) my plumeria. Now that I know my small peace lilies are doing okay in leca (I separated a dying plant into three smaller sections to make sure something survived), I might even combine them back into one container and have that as a fourth keeper.
I’m not committed to my syngonium, or even the lemon plants (they aren’t big enough to be considered trees yet); and the avocado, snake plant, and desert rose were/are my mom’s plants to begin with!
So, there it is. I am thinking about culling my plant collection because PMS has me in a chokehold. We’ll see what lasts through the summer.
Send salty snacks and vegan ice cream (I’m not vegan, just reducing my dairy consumption)!