Why I Love Gardening: Finding Purpose Beyond the Plants

There's something deeply personal about sharing why we love what we love, isn't there? As I sit down to write about my gardening journey, I'm reminded that understanding our "why" is just as important as knowing the "how." My passion for gardening didn't develop overnight—it grew slowly, much like the seedlings I now tenderly care for with perhaps a bit too much attention (checking them fourteen times a day is normal, right?).

I started The Type A Gardener because I believe everyone deserves to experience the joy and satisfaction of growing something with their own hands, even if they've had disappointments in the past. My mission is to share real, practical gardening advice that empowers beginners to feel confident and excited about their gardening journey. Because here's the truth—gardening isn't just about pretty flowers or homegrown vegetables. It's about discovering parts of yourself you never knew existed.

So let me share with you why I garden and where my passion comes from. Perhaps somewhere in my story, you'll find inspiration for your own gardening "why."

My Garden is Where I Unplug

Between running my own business, being a wife, daughter, friend, host, and the million other hats we all wear, some days feel overwhelming to say the least. That's why my garden has become my daily therapy session without the hourly rate.

When I step outside with my gardening gloves (after researching the best brands for exactly my hand size and gardening needs, of course), I unplug from everything. No phone, no laptop, no one asking me to find something they could have found themselves if they'd just looked in the obvious place I put it last time. Just me, the plants, and blessed silence.

Yes, gardening has its own demands—plants need attention and care—but they don't ask me to respond to emails or RSVP to the seventeenth event of the week. They just want water, sun, and for me to stop hovering over them checking for new growth every 15 minutes. I'm working on that last part.

the garden is where I feel Connected to Something Bigger

When I'm in the garden, hands and clothes covered in soil (despite my best efforts and the purchase of three different types of gardening aprons), sun warming my face, and leaves brushing against my skin, I feel connected to something bigger than my to-do list. I notice things I would typically miss while speed-walking through life—like bumble bees taking naps in nasturtium flowers (they really do this and it's ridiculously cute).

I've spent hours watching the soft breezes vibrate tomato flowers, shaking pollen down to create the fruit. And don't get me started on earthworms. After spending most of my life being grossed out by them, I now get unreasonably excited when I dig in the soil and find these little ecosystem engineers doing their important work.

None of this has anything to do with me, but without these tiny creatures, growing food would be nearly impossible. It's humbling and grounding in the best possible way.

growing my own food gives me some Control of What Goes Into My Body (Without Going Full Hippy)

Let's get something straight—I'm not a full-on crunchy, organic-living hippy. I'm a regular person who's often pressed for time, tries to eat vegetables as much as possible, but has absolutely zero shame about late-night taco runs or Jack-in-the-Box when the craving hits. We're all doing the best we can, right?

But let's be honest: the odds are stacked against us. Marketing geniuses work overtime to trick us into believing things are "healthy" when they're not. Words like "natural" and "grass-fed" rarely mean what you think they do (despite the higher price tag).

In my mid-20s, I experienced some really scary health issues. For about a year, I had sharp stomach pains that would leave me curled up several times a week. After multiple doctors, specialists, and even going under for an endoscopy, they all said they couldn't find anything wrong with me.

Their professional medical opinion? It was "probably in my head." They told me it was likely anxiety and/or depression. When I said I wasn't anxious or depressed, they didn't listen. After a year of being poked, prodded, and still in constant pain, they prescribed anti-depressants.

I refused to accept this as my only option. So I found a local holistic MD who did something revolutionary: he asked if I was allergic to any foods. No one had ever asked me this before! He suggested a full panel food allergy test, and guess what? Major allergies to gluten and eggs! He also discovered I had leaky gut causing nutrient loss.

The moment I removed eggs and gluten from my diet, the pain magically disappeared. I couldn't believe it was that simple. Instead of finding the root cause, traditional doctors were about to put me on major medication for mental illness I didn't have.

That's when I knew I had to take a more active role in my health, including what I put into my body in order to heal it. I still love and believe in healthcare providers (I love my PCP, he’s the best) and medication—when truly necessary. But between doctors receiving minimal preventative health training and pharmaceutical companies pushing drugs at every turn, we have to advocate for ourselves.

Growing my own food means I know exactly what goes into it. No mystery chemicals, no confusing labels, just plants doing what they've done for millions of years before humans decided to "improve" the process. It's become a huge part of my health journey.

i love Sharing the Journey (Because Gardening is Better Together)

What started as a personal journey has blossomed into something I'm passionate about sharing. I've discovered that helping other gardeners—especially beginners who might be feeling discouraged after a few failed attempts—brings me nearly as much joy as the gardening itself.

There's something magical about seeing someone's eyes light up when their first seedling emerges, or when they harvest their first homegrown tomato. That moment of connection—of "I did this!"—is priceless. And helping people get there through practical, no-nonsense advice that cuts through the gardening jargon? That's my sweet spot.

Whether you have acres of land or just a sunny windowsill, there's something transformative about nurturing a seed into something that can nourish your body and soul. Gardening has taught me patience (still working on this one), the value of research (hello, 3 AM rabbit holes about optimal tomato spacing), and how to learn from failure.

So that's my "why"—finding peace, connecting with nature, taking control of my health, and sharing the journey with others. What's yours? Because understanding your motivation might just be the key to making gardening a lifelong passion rather than a passing phase.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go check on my seedlings. They probably haven't grown since I checked 20 minutes ago, but what if they have and I'm missing it?! (Some Type A tendencies die hard.)