I came back to plants at a time when I needed something to come back to.
A few years ago, I had a collection of more than 50 houseplants. I loved them, but I was also going through an incredibly difficult period of my life and struggling with my mental health. Taking care of myself was hard enough. Taking care of dozens of plants became impossible.
One by one, they died.
Eventually, almost the entire collection was gone. After that, I stopped keeping houseplants altogether. For about a year, I didn’t buy another one. Something that had once brought me so much happiness had become a reminder of a version of myself and a period of my life that I wasn’t ready to revisit.
Then I decided to try again.
I brought home a fiddle leaf fig.
If you know anything about fiddle leaf figs, you know they’re not exactly famous for being forgiving. Somehow, I ended up with one that absolutely refused to die.
And I tested that determination.
There were times when I neglected it. There were stretches when it didn’t get the attention it deserved. It dropped leaves until, at one point, there were only four left.
But those four leaves stayed.
The plant wasn’t thriving. It wasn’t beautiful or impressive. It certainly wasn’t the picture-perfect fiddle leaf fig you see online.
But it was still alive.
There was something about that stubborn little tree refusing to give up that stuck with me. At a time when continuing to move forward didn’t always feel easy, there it was in the corner—imperfect, struggling, a little worse for wear, but still growing.
So I kept it.
And, in a way, it encouraged me to keep going too.
Eventually four leaves became more. I started paying attention again. I learned what the plant actually needed instead of simply hoping for the best. Then I brought home another plant. And another.
What started with one stubborn fiddle leaf fig slowly became a collection again. This time, though, I wanted to understand the plants I was caring for. I started learning about light, soil, watering, humidity, propagation, pests, roots, and all the tiny details that can make the difference between a plant simply surviving and actually thriving.
That curiosity grew into the collection I have today and, eventually, into this site.
Blooms & Bees is where I share what I’ve learned along the way: the successes, the mistakes, the plants I’ve rescued, the ones I’ve lost, and everything I continue to learn as my collection grows.
I’m not someone who has always been naturally good at keeping plants alive. Quite the opposite.
I learned because I failed. I started over because one plant gave me a reason to try again.
And that fiddle leaf fig?
It’s still here.