One recent morning, as I enjoyed coffee in bed while scrolling through my phone, an article on social media caught my eye. It discussed parenting teenagers using the so-called "potted plant" method. Intrigued, I turned to my husband Chris, who was beside me. "Listen to this," I said. "This piece claims teenagers don't want active engagement from their parents but prefer them nearby, hovering quietly like a 'potted plant.'" I emphasized the term with air quotes.
Chris glanced up from his phone. "So first it was helicopter parents, then snowplow parents, and now potted plant parents?" he quipped. "Apparently," I replied. He rolled his eyes and returned to his Wordle game, but my curiosity was piqued, prompting me to read further.
The Origins of the Potted Plant Concept
The "potted plant" idea was introduced by clinical psychologist Lisa Damour in a 2016 New York Times article. She wrote, "While normally developing teenagers seek new levels of emotional and physical distance from their parents, perhaps they, like toddlers, feel most at ease when their folks balance active engagement with detached availability." The research cited in the article is compelling, suggesting that mere physical proximity, regardless of direct interaction, can enhance adolescent well-being.
As I got out of bed to start my day, a thought nagged at me: But at what cost to the parents' well-being? This question lingered as I considered my own experiences.
A Personal Reflection on Parenting Transitions
My children are now 18, 20, and 22 years old, technically beyond the teenage years targeted by the potted plant method. Yet, they are not fully independent, so the article resonated deeply. I recognized the parental instinct to remain nearby and available, just in case. However, I also saw the potential trap in this approach.
I know many parents on the brink of an empty nest who struggle with their identity, having been so consumed by parenting that they neglected to build their own lives. The potted plant method might inadvertently encourage delaying this self-reckoning. When the baseball games end and the car rides cease, what remains? Reflecting on my journey, I realize that refusing to fade into the background has prepared me for a fulfilling life, and I am eager to embrace it fully.
Embracing a New Chapter
Do you recall that iconic scene from "The Goonies" where Mikey Walsh delivers a pivotal speech, declaring, "It's our time"? I am ready to give that speech to myself. After 22 years of parenting, it is my time. I am done. I anticipate the responses from older parents: "You're never done parenting, blah blah." To that, I respectfully say: nonsense.
The late, great radio psychologist Dr. Joy Browne often said, "Your job as a parent is to give your kids roots and wings. And the wings are the hardest part." If you have done your job well, those wings are what your children are using now. Let them fly.
From Potted Plant to Present Mother
Here is a crucial point: I actually lived as a potted plant during the first seven years of my parenting journey. Physically present but emotionally distant due to alcoholism, I could manage basic tasks like packed lunches and PTA meetings, yet a layer of vodka created a barrier between my kids and me. When my children were 7, 5, and 3, I achieved sobriety through a 12-step program, leading to 15 years of genuine, engaged motherhood.
However, I never surrendered my entire self, as some parenting trends seem to advocate. While my children were at school, I worked part-time and enrolled in a memoir-writing class. As they grew more independent—no longer needing rides or homework help with advanced math—I transitioned to full-time work and dedicated more hours to writing. This perseverance paid off: my debut memoir, "Sober Mom," is set for publication this summer.
Prioritizing Personal Growth
Should I skip a writing conference because my daughter might want me nearby while she watches TV? Should Chris and I cancel a weekend getaway in case an adult son needs help with the washing machine? I have decided that what I want—and what my children truly need—is not my quiet presence on the periphery of their lives.
I want them to witness a woman who completed her memoir, attended the conference, and consistently showed up for her own life as she did for theirs. I want them to see what a marriage looks like after over 20 years—two people who still choose each other and enjoy weekends alone. Most importantly, I want them to learn, by observing me, that parenting does not necessitate disappearing.
The Final Takeaway
So, if my children glance up from their phones and wonder, Where's mom? Good. That is precisely the point. I am not a potted plant. It is my time now.
Elizabeth Jannuzzi's debut memoir, "Sober Mom," will be published by She Writes Press in July 2026 and is currently available for pre-order. Her work delves into themes of loss, motherhood, and recovery from alcoholism. Her essays have appeared in publications such as Under the Gum Tree, The Rumpus, and WOW! Women On Writing, and she received a Best of the Net nomination in 2023. Elizabeth serves as the program director at Project Write Now, a nonprofit writing organization, and connects with her audience through a weekly Substack newsletter.
