I am an expert in plants. It is my full-time job—along with design—and I attend graduate school for it. So yeah, I’m as close to an expert as I would say I am about anything at my age (a ripe 23 and a half years if you were curious). And still, I fail miserably, epically, royally at them sometimes. Okay, maybe not royally. But when I fail it discourages me! It weighs heavily on me for days, if not weeks when one of my plants is in the process of dying.

Did I water it too little? Does it need more water (no, never if you’re like me and you love babying your plants)? Is it getting enough sunlight? How can so many leaves fall at once!? Will it recover? Should I just toss it?

In the age of Instagram, seeing everyone’s success is daunting. It can also feel invalidating and encourage consumer culture. “I need more plants because my house doesn’t look that!” Of course, my like-minded plant folks never mean to cause any harm. They are simply sharing their successes. Except most limit it to their success and never showcase the failures.

This does not just occur in “Planstagram” but in every pocket of social media. And we are inundated with this perception that failure does not exist for others. It seems like an endless swarm of people obtaining wishlist plants, large makeup hauls, and new clothes. Reels about how someone spent hundreds of dollars on a single leaf or node.

For many of us, this lifestyle is not accessible. My truth? I cannot afford a Thai Monstera, an Albo Variegata, or a fancy pendant grow light. Sometimes I overwater my plants then leaves turn yellow and fall off. I do not have 200+ in my house–I don’t even own a home! I rent and don’t have large windows or very much space.

And sometimes I fail and a plant dies on me. I’ve been waiting about six months for my Fiddle Leaf Fig to “come back” because it’s just a brown stick at this point. I’ve killed every single string of pearls I’ve owned and love/hate them. I don’t like calatheas even though I’ve only ever had one; I think they’re too high maintenance.

And still, I have a business in interior plant design. Not because I’m incompetent or chose the wrong profession but because failing is a part of every profession, every hobby, every life.

When I kill my plants, I learn their needs better and how to care for them better. And I grieve them because I love them. But it’s okay because next time I will be a better parent (or next time after 😂).