A Case for Guys Who Like Plants

"I don't know if I should re-post the old blogs on there unedited, or if I should post them but edit them to reflect where I am now. Or maybe I just start fresh."

I am riding a crowded train to Brooklyn with J. Her bike rests against the back wall of the metal train car, and she expertly balances one hand on the bike, the other on the bar above. She's a pro. Amidst the passengers jostling in and out, we update each other on the latest happenings.

"I think you're overthinking it," J says. I laugh. She's right. There is a comfortable pause, the kind of pause that's been tested and earned. We've known each other since high school. This July will be 10 years since we moved to New York together. In other words, we've watched each other die and come back a thousand times. Thank god for phoenix friends.

"I'm more interested in what you have to say now," J offers. What I hear is: it's okay to let go. In that moment, she reminds me I am free. "Thank you," I return. This is all that needs to be said. The subject shifts. We carry on towards Red Hook.

---

Before starting this blog, I read through all my old posts—the adorable ones when I first moved to NYC, the fiery ones when I started embracing activism, the delighted ones about characters I met, the wistful ones about dating. I thank them for their service.

I have so much love for the versions of myself who wrote those blogs; she was curious and brave. She was unafraid to ask hard questions.

I wanted to honor her in some way. I decided to choose one blog from my past to carry into this new chapter. It's short and sweet and about my favorite topic—love. My definition of love has expanded so much since then.

The blog I chose is called, "A Case for Guys Who Like Plants."

If I could speak to the girl in 2017 who wrote it, I'd tell her she doesn't need to write about seeking love anymore. She knows it's within.

I'd tell her to keep asking the hard questions. That it's all going to work out.

I'd tell her in 2025, she cooks beautiful food and can definitely light a grill herself. She adopted a darling cat. She has an apartment of her own. It's full of plants.

---

A Case for Guys Who Like Plants

Originally published on September 20, 2017 via Wordpress. Slightly adjusted for typos.

I wouldn’t say I have a "type." My exes are a diverse cast of characters, although upon looking back, it does appear I am partial to guitarists. But as I navigate my early-20s, I’ve developed a short list of qualities to help me determine if there's a second date:

1. Must know how to light a grill.

2. Must be a dog person.

3. Must like plants.

   
   

The first two criteria require no explanation, as grills scare me and I think cats are judgmental. But I’m here to explain the third one — because it’s one I’ve only just realized, and it’s probably the most important. I've come to the conclusion that plant guys are a special subset. I've prepared my findings below.

A case for guys who like plants:

Date guys who like plants because they are naturally dedicated. Plants are arguably harder to take care of than animals, because plants don’t bark at you if you don’t water them. You just have to care enough to remember, and that’s an all-around good quality in a person.

Guys who like plants know it takes time to grow. Relationships are handmade, not pre-packaged. In our media-crazed, convenience-driven society, we forget how to be patient. Guys who like plants don’t pressure you into something you’re not ready for; they’re not entitled to anything — instead, they’re honest with you, and they trust you to be honest with them. They know you’re both growing at your own pace, and that there’s no “right” way to age as a person or couple.

Guys who like plants also probably like being outside, and studies show that being outside makes you happy. Sunshine is good for the soul. They take you on hikes and pretend to push you into waterfalls and kiss you under the stars at outdoor concerts. Maybe they have plants in their window sill or a green thumb. They remind you that the series of toxic relationships and lost-cause distractions that came before were good learning lessons, and nothing more. And the best part? They don’t even know the effect they have on you. They just quietly do their thing.

Plus, there’s a 98% chance that guys who like plants are also romantics (the this-made-me-think-of-you kind, not the I'd-kill-for-you kind.) Works cited: my sister’s boyfriend, who picked her a wildflower from Wyoming when we went to watch the eclipse and drove it all the way home; my co-worker, who scoured an entire mountain to find the perfect spot to propose; and my dad, who named his youngest daughter after his mom’s favorite flower.

Finally, guys who like plants know that balance is everything. Plants need the right blend of elements, and so do people. Sometimes, that means growing together. And sometimes, it means saying that now is not the time, and that you’re better off growing alone. At the end of the day, they just want to watch you shine. And isn't that all you could ever ask?

This is a working theory, but I think I’m onto something here: guys who like plants move different than guys who don’t.

My plant-filled apartment in 2025. 2017 me would be so proud!