There is a plant in my room. A few plants actually, but this plant in particular has been there the longest in its designated spot on my table next to all my books and stationery. It is a money plant for those of you wondering, known to be a lucky symbol to bring prosperity and good fortune (I'm starting to believe this is definitely a lie).
I have had this plant over the last 5 years, ever since my mom got really into gardening and deemed I had to have at least one plant in my room. “To brighten it up”, she said. Apparently it's supposed to stimulate my brain and also provide emotional support and fortunately requires the least amount of care.
So why have I spent the last two paragraphs describing a plant, you may ask? Well, I'm going to college next year (hopefully), and this plant and I will no longer share a room. I realized that it has occupied the same spot on my desk, watching me struggle while studying and sleep when it gets too hard. It has watched me pull all-nighters to practice every trigonometry sum possible, to watching Gilmore Girls reruns when I claim to be studying. It has seen me grow just like I have with it. From a tiny sapling to a fully grown money plant with thick and lush heart-shaped leaves. I've even noticed its tiny quirks, like how it droops on my books due to its heavy vines but always uprights itself to face the sun from my window.
The plant has watched me grow through all my awkward phases, sprout new leaves, possibly change color, maybe even wilt a little, but always grow back with a little help, just as I’ve watched it do the same. In more ways than one, it has not only mirrored my growth but also been a companion in my journey. Change is hard to accept. Sometimes, the most ubiquitous aspects of life are the most difficult to digest. We know it’s coming, but we somehow never see it until it really hits. Until you start looking at your plant as a metaphor for your life.
Although change may often seem frightening, it’s a fundamental part of life. Without the ability to accept change, we wouldn’t be able to grow or learn or become better people. Even though I don’t want to leave my childhood behind, I have no choice but to do so.
I know I won’t immediately embrace adulthood, and those leaves that I’ve had from the beginning won’t fall off anytime soon. But I’ll learn to get used to all the new leaves that form, and maybe they won’t all have to compete for light. It’ll definitely take a while, but I’ll have to make my way out from behind the shelf and bask in the light of the window. Because, after all, plants need sunlight to grow.
And just as I know that my plant will grow and soar even greater heights despite facing some obstacles and stagnating, it too knows that while I may not be in the comfort of home, I too will grow. As I already see the new leaf sprouting in my plant, I know it sees change, a new side sprouting in me.
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