The Grass is Greener Where You Water It

April 1, 2026

Writer: Eve Collon

Editor: Anne Marie Martinez

Frankly, the cliche of the grass being greener on the other side has always sparked skepticism within me. I never understood where the discrepancy between the metaphorical lawns lay. How does the landscape next to me have greener grass if they are surrounded by the same environment? The answer to that question is the harsh reality of life. Simply put, life doesn’t fall in your lap if you sit on your butt day after day. The grass might be greener on the other side, but only if that grass is watered, nourished, and well cared for. 

I can’t pretend to be a landscaping expert, but I am fairly certain that there is more than one way to grow grass, fertilize it, and maintain its health. What might work for your neighbor isn’t guaranteed to be your secret to growth. Experimenting with various methods of health promotion is what carefully crafts a recipe for success. 

In my life, different seasons require different routines. During the school year, my recipe for wellness might look like a relaxing day in bed watching my comfort show. Snuggling up with a Jellycat stuffed animal or two, watching the snow fall outside my window, and taking a breather from the never-ending assignments helps to center my mind. This routine might feel right for me one day, and not the next, and that is perfectly acceptable. 

A common product of my occasional rest days in bed during the school year is guilt. My roommates are dispersed: one working at her restaurant job, one taking notes in class, and another babysitting. Sometimes I find myself with a feeling of shame for not going that extra mile. But what I have found is that stretching myself too thin is what progressively kills my grass. On the flip side of laying low, if I water my grass too frequently, I can suffocate the roots. Knowing how to have a happy medium is key, and it takes some experimentation. 

You have to figure out what watering the grass means to you. If it means catching up with an old friend, send a quick message their way. If it means deleting social media from your phone, take that leap. Let those actions be your initial step in watering your grass. That first drop of water might feel cold; it might feel uncomfortable, but you have to give yourself that inch so that eventually you can take a mile. When your body eventually adjusts to the water temperature, you can think clearly, work efficiently, and recognize when to modify the dial of life. 

Through many seasons, I’ve learned that the grass was never greener on the other side; it was simply tended to with intention. The comparison that once sparked skepticism now feels irrelevant, because the only lawn I am responsible for is my own. Some days that means resting without apology. Other days, it means pushing myself beyond what feels comfortable. Growth is not about constant motion or constant stillness, but about learning the flow that keeps my roots strong. When I stop measuring my landscape against someone else’s and start honoring what mine needs in each season, the green I was searching for begins to show up right where I stand.