Re-Potting the Right Way

Written at the end of April

At the start of quarantine I wanted a plant to brighten things up. One afternoon, before my mom geared up to embark on her essential trip to the grocery store, I asked if she could grab me some seeds or a plant to pot. She returned with a beautiful little plastic pot of yellow pansies for me to put in my room. I was ecstatic. What a sweet flower to welcome into my space and I had the perfect pot to put it in. So I set to work. With no training beforehand, not even a video on how to attempt to make this switch from a square plastic pot to a round one, I cut and squeezed the little guy into a pot in a way that was less than perfect. The next morning, I rolled over to gaze at my new plant only to find it’s stem bowed and petals brushing the bottom of my shelf.

It was dead.

I should've taken the time to learn how to re-pot it and do so correctly, with care and a plan. Maybe I should’ve kept it in it’s plastic pot just a while longer to get it used to its new home instead of forcing it into sudden changes. I think you see where I’m going here.

Lately, I’ve been questioning everything. And now that I’m in quarantine I have the time. Everyday I seem to fabricate a new crisis that needs to be solved by the time I lay my head to rest. I know who I want to be and everyday I discover a new obstacle between me and that person. With the start of May, my sophomore year coming to a close, and what’s supposed to be Summer on our toes I want to re-pot some things- the right way.

I’ve decided I want to switch up my style. I’ve spent hours scrolling through my carts, wishlists and “saved for laters” piecing together the perfect summer fits. Clothing that screams: “I know what I’m doing and I look good doing it” despite that being the farthest claim from the truth.

What that truth is I really don’t know. About once a week I seem to know exactly what I’m doing and what I’ll pour my energy into, but the days that aren’t like that consist of me waking up at 1 or 2pm having already wasted my day away and lamely rolling onto my laptop to do whatever homework I can before I can’t resist the urge to online shop any longer. When I log onto social media I’m flooded with posts about people working toward their goals and making their dreams a reality while being trapped in the house. Though they’re well intended and are supposed to be means of inspiration I feel like I've been decomposing in my bedroom while others have been conquering the world.

It’s times like these when I’m reminded why we are where we are. This is a traumatic and emotional time even if you haven’t been directly affected by the virus, everyone is dealing with some form of grief and it’s okay to take days for yourself. While switching between my cart on Forever21 and the accessories section of Garage I've learned a lot about myself (just as everyone else has).

In order to start being the person I want to be I need to know who I’m starting with. Entering quarantine I had no idea what I liked to do. What a concept right? The past few years I’ve been all about self love, self care and getting to know one’s self but when push comes to shove I don’t even know what I like to do when I’m not running from classes to clubs. I’ve realized that I force myself into pots far too quickly and get mad when I don’t fit and die- figuratively of course. By this I mean, I place unrealistic expectations on myself and criticize myself for not sticking to them. Of course discipline is a necessary skill to achieve one’s goals but so is patience. I challenge myself to solve problems that are almost always arbitrary and usually require a tele-therapy session to sort through. But if I don’t understand my complete subconscious by lunch, by my standards I’m falling behind.

It's time to learn to be gentle and patient with myself. I’ve come to the shocking realization that I’m human with human feelings that in time will pass but are okay to feel. I’ve learned not everyday is one where I want to dance and laugh. Sometimes I want to cry and I’m allowed to! How freeing!

Most importantly I’ve begun to take responsibility for my life. It may not be my choice to be quarantined but I can decide what to do while I’m here. I have the ability to choose to wake up late and dedicate my time to TikTok or take a walk outside and be inspired, but the crazy part is that it’s okay to do both. All of it is okay. Every little bit of it. Whatever brings me peace in the moment is what I’ll value. And I deserve to be at peace. Everything is okay and soon enough it’ll feel that way.