Welcome to Rootbound: Where Plants are the Love Language (and judgement is composted)

I could talk about plants. All day. Er’y day. Tell me what you’re loving, what’s struggling, what you’ve hidden in the backseat of your car until your husband went to bed. I’ll give you an unqualified, exaggerated guesstimate of how much his hobby costs — and remind you that yours actually adds curb appeal. Talk dirt to me — I’m here for it.

I still remember the exact moment I was rambling about plants to someone not quite as (enthusiastically) unhinged as I am, and I could literally see their eyes glaze over — frantically scanning the room for the eye contact of an unexpecting rescuer. That’s why the plant community is special to me. They’re my people. Folks who consider my dahlia dialogues vapid? Not so much.

I took a social media strike a while back. It wasn’t that it messed with my self-worth — I felt steady in that — but I couldn’t ignore the impact it was having on the women and girls I love. Even the ones I didn’t know. So I stepped back. Awaited my sisterhood to recognize and award me for such a heroine act of solidarity. But truth be told? It wasn’t exactly a hardship. Social media has always felt like trying to build real connections in a loud, glitchy mosh pit. It’s just not my vibe.

I’m more of a one-on-one, tell me your trauma and I’ll respond in kind kinda gal. This is a safe space. I’ll only attempt to problem-solve your plants. The marshmallow aversion Aunt Susie’s jello mold inflicted? Your feelings are valid.

I was happily off the socials and not missing a thing — until I launched Root Bound. Because as much as it overwhelms me, social media is just too valuable when it comes to building a business and, more importantly, finding my people. My fellow foliage-obsessed, dirt-digging tribe. So here I am — stepping into the chaos, arms wide open, just waiting for my greenery gals and guys to come hither…

…only to realize: there are plant people you guys — free-spirited, lovers of the land — who… get this… aren’t all that loving to their fellow foliage friends.

I know. Take a minute. My pearls are still clutched, hand to chest.

So here I am. Out here posting tubers and reels and updates on the shade tolerance of prairie plants like someone who totally knows what she’s doing. But I’m also watching — because that’s what introverts do when they show up in loud places. We observe. We absorb. And what I noticed, to be honest, caught me off guard.

In this vibrant, blooming, plant-loving world… there’s also gatekeeping. There's judgment. There's an odd amount of moral superiority for people who dig in the dirt.

Now let me be clear: I love native plants. I grow them. I teach about them. I believe in them- in their ecological importance and impacts.

But what I don’t love? When passion turns into prescription. When people start shaming others for not doing it “right.” When a garden becomes a battleground for who’s more pure, more educated, more eco.

Because here’s what I believe: diversity is the strength of a garden — and it should be the strength of the gardening community, too.

There’s room for the native purist, and there’s room for the new gardener who picked up a purple salvia at Lowe’s and doesn’t know what USDA zone they’re in. There’s room for conversations about habitat restoration, and there’s room for joyfully chaotic cottage gardens filled with a mix of natives and beloved heirlooms.

What there isn't room for? Gatekeeping. Shaming. Arrogance disguised as advocacy.

At Root Bound, we take a balanced approach. We believe in educating without judging. In leading by example, not ego. In planting with purpose, and also planting with heart. That means our inventory will always center around native plants — but it will also include the occasional well-behaved, non-invasive non-native that brings people joy or draws them into gardening in the first place.

Because beauty matters. Balance matters. Joy matters. And people matter.

If you’re here for that kind of approach — for gardens that grow food, shelter pollinators, and bring humans together — you’re in the right place. You’re one of us, you're my people.

So let’s keep it kind.

Let’s keep it curious.

Let’s keep it real.

(And if you’re hiding plants in your car so your partner

doesn’t see? DM me. I’ve got strategies.)