Why Starting a Backyard Garden Was the Best Decision I Made All Year

I never thought I’d be the kind of person who talks about soil pH levels and gets giddy about sprouting basil. But here we are.

A year ago, I couldn’t keep a succulent alive. I figured gardening was for people with green thumbs, rural backyards, or endless free time—none of which applied to me. But then something shifted. Maybe it was too much time indoors. Maybe it was burnout from constant screen time. Whatever it was, I found myself craving something slower, something grounded. So I bought a few herb starters on a whim and stuck them in pots on the patio.

Spoiler: they didn’t die. And neither did my enthusiasm.

That little cluster of herbs became the seed (pun fully intended) of something bigger. Within weeks, I was researching raised beds, watching YouTube videos about composting, and sketching out where I could fit a small garden plot in my backyard. It was the first time in months I felt genuinely excited about learning something new.

When I finally planted my first real garden—just a few vegetables and flowers—it was far from perfect. The rows were crooked, the spacing questionable, and I had no clue what I was doing. But it didn’t matter. Every morning, I walked outside with coffee in hand and checked on the plants. Watered here, pruned there. I’d run my fingers through the leaves and feel… calm. Present. Connected.

Gardening gave me something I hadn’t realized I was missing: permission to slow down.

Unlike so many parts of life, gardens don’t respond to hustle. You can’t rush them or outwork them. They demand patience and presence. They remind you that growth happens below the surface before anything blooms.

I’ve learned a lot this past year—not just about tomatoes and marigolds, but about myself. I’ve learned that I’m more patient than I thought. That showing up consistently—even in small ways—pays off. That I actually like getting my hands dirty. That failure (like the cucumbers that never made it past two inches) isn’t the end of the world.

The garden has become my sanctuary. A place where I don’t need to perform or produce or prove anything. Just a quiet patch of earth where I can breathe, move, and create something beautiful with no agenda other than joy.

And yes, the fresh herbs and homegrown veggies are amazing. There’s nothing quite like slicing into a tomato you grew yourself. But what’s even better is the peace it brings. The way it pulls me out of my head and into the moment. The way it connects me to something real.

If you’ve ever thought, “I could never keep plants alive,” or “I don’t have time for a garden,” I hear you. I was you. But if you’ve been feeling restless or disconnected or stuck in your own head, maybe a garden is exactly what you need.

You don’t have to be a plant expert or have a huge yard. You just have to start. A pot of herbs on a windowsill. A tomato plant in a bucket. One seed in some soil.

It’s not just about what you grow. It’s about what grows in you along the way.