09/11/2025
When I first got this plant, it was thriving, bright, blooming, full of life. That’s how some friendships begin, too. Everything feels natural, effortless, and alive. You share your life and show up for each other.
But sometimes, without even realising it, things change. The plant that once stood strong begins to wilt, but not because you stopped caring for it. Like a friendship, you pour in light and love, but it is no longer returned.
I tried everything to bring it back. I watered it, moved it, gave it time, but it kept fading. And eventually, I had to accept that not everything can be saved. Some friendships, like some plants, have simply reached their season’s end, no matter how much you try to nurture them.
So I cut it back to almost nothing. It felt like a reflection of my own process, pruning, cutting off, and letting go, making space for what might be.
I bought myself flowers. Cut Flowers, at least, aren't pretending to be something they're not; you know, they won't last, but you enjoy their beauty. Fresh, vibrant, no pruning needed. A reminder that I can bring colour and joy into my life, even after loss. That sometimes, self-nourishment is the most beautiful act of healing.
Not all friendships are meant to last forever.. And when their time is done, letting go doesn’t mean failure. It means grace. Because the right connections will never drain you, they’ll help you bloom.
