“I Have a Brown Thumb” and Other Lies I Told Myself

It was 2020. I was a nurse manager at a large academic medical center. Everyone was heading home, hunkering down, seeking safety—and waiting for us to tell them what came next. Nurses, doctors, technicians, and technologists, firefighters, and essential workers stayed the course, doing what we were meant to do: save as many people as possible.

Meanwhile, non-essential folks were posting about sourdough, house remodels, boredom, homeschooling chaos, and homebound epiphanies.

I felt a pull—to care for something outside of myself that was only mine. A few plants had come into my life through funerals and family losses, but I never considered myself a Plant Lady. That title belonged to the elite—the Pinterest board curators, the Instagram influencers who had all the answers.

I remember buying my first plant just for me, from Home Depot. I told myself, I’m probably wasting my money… I’ll just kill it. I confessed to my best friend on a phone call: I’m the worst at keeping plants alive. I’ll never have a house full like you.

She was astounded.

“What are you talking about? You had tons of plants when we met. You inspired me!”

That truth hit me—I’d forgotten.
Twenty years earlier, I did have plants. A lot of them. One was a peace lily I loved so much, I’d sometimes carry it around with me. Weird? Maybe. But I was 21, living the dream, and if I wanted to take my plant to a coffee shop, I could—and I did.

So… where did that plant go? Where did the story change?
When did I start telling myself that lie?

Life happened. I had a child. I got married. I went back to school. I became a nurse. I had more kids. I became a leader.
Everything shifted. And with every shift, I told myself “I am”:

• A person with a brown thumb
• Stressed
• Overwhelmed
• The one always in charge
• Not enough—and somehow, also too much
• Different at home than at work
• Not confident
• Weird, quirky, odd
• Not a good friend

With all those “I am” statements running in the background, it’s no wonder I felt boxed in by invisible rules—kept on a path I hadn’t chosen. I felt anxious, waiting for someone to discover I wasn’t good enough. Classic imposter syndrome.

So, what did I do?

I met my first coach—Chasity.
She helped me define my values and showed me that there was no difference between Work Angie and Life Angie. I was a whole person. And when I started living in alignment with my values, my confidence grew.

I had no idea then that it would lead me here: Certified Professional Coach. Entrepreneur. Plant Lady™ (yes, trademark pending). And so much more.

Now, when I hear myself start to define who I am—internally or out loud—I pause. I ask: Is there a limiting belief attached to that statement?

Because I know now:

I AM.
Simply that. I AM.
And so are you.
YOU ARE.

There’s no need to add definitions after it.

🌿 Your Turn

What stories have you been telling yourself that no longer serve who you are becoming?
What definitions have you outgrown?

Start small. Buy a plant. Write a value statement. Sit still and listen to your own voice.
And when you hear yourself say “I am…”
Pause—and ask if that identity honors your truth.
Because you are whole. You are enough. You are becoming.

Let yourself bloom.