The earth feels moist in my hands as I pat the soil down, this plant needed tending to.
It’s a piece of ginger root I planted some time ago its sprouts are now strong and tall and green.
As I continue to pat the soil down I realize a lesson I’ve been learning for the past few years starting from this point in my past:
After picking bad people to surround myself I decided I no longer needed friends.
I’d alienated my family.
I was alone.
I’d been violated and worse than that, I’d starting finding ways to hurt myself further.
Isolating myself was just one more step in this direction.
I bought plants because some blog somewhere said this can help with depression.
I woke up, I went to work, I came home, I went to sleep.
I hardly ate, I was barely alive and nothing more.
the plants began to die.
Splotchy yellow leaves, drooping with the weight of poor care.
I couldn’t even take care of myself but I was determined to take care of these damn plants.
So, I watered them, worked to bring them back to life - these plants became my purpose.
My plants started to grow again, still traumatized but alive.
I quit my miserable job. I studied my ass off to pass a test in order to get the job I wanted.
I failed that test 3 times.
Still, my plants were beginning to thrive.
Eventually after much failure and then a final success I got the job.
I made friends, good friends.
I met good humans. The kind of friends who shine light on the pieces of myself I’ve refused to see, the kind of friends who helped me learn how love me.
My plants were lonely I realized, so I bought more - the collection growing slowly over time.
I began to eat more, to stretch more, to breathe more.
I broke up with my boyfriend. He was a piece of shit.
Still, I held onto my plants. I’d put too much time and effort in to let them die now. I’d invested in them the same way I began investing in myself.
I got my own place, plants and all.
I found myself.
All of my yellow splotchy, wilting leaves began to fall. I was growing anew.
Love found its way into my life.
I take care of my plants, I take care of myself.
As I pat down the soil of this plant I am reminded, all of my trauma is a part of me.
Just like this plant that is now 5 years old, I too can come back from the brink of death, I too can live again.
Not just live but thrive.
The thing about ginger root is, after you plant it you don’t see a sprout for a few weeks to a few months. You can’t check to see if the roots are growing or you’ll risk jeopardizing the plant. You have to water it, give it light, and wait.
I thrive now because I invested in myself and I never lost hope that one day I’d emerge from the Earth and keep growing, never stopping in my pursuit of light.