**This article was written by Angela Mason Foster, Beaufort County Master Gardener Volunteer**

It happened just the other day. I was chatting with a fellow gardener, and she confessed, a little sheepishly, that she sometimes feels like an imposter. “I buy all these plants,” she said, “and half of them die. I look around at everyone else’s gardens, and I feel like I must be doing something wrong.”

I laughed and reassured her, “We all feel that way most of the time. No one posts pictures of their dead plants on Facebook.”

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how true this is. Gardening, like any craft rooted in nature, is full of failure—but we rarely talk about it. We celebrate the successes: the first ripe tomato, the vibrant perennial bed, the massive hydrangea blooms. But we don’t often mention the drooping seedlings, the crispy azaleas, or the tomato plants felled by an unexpected early frost. And because of that, many gardeners—especially those newer to the hobby—walk around feeling like they’re the only ones struggling.

In reality, every gardener, no matter how experienced, loses plants. Plants die for reasons entirely outside of our control: sudden droughts, surprise freezes, invasive pests, poorly timed rain, or a simple mismatch between plant and place. Even the best advice—”right plant, right place”—is easier said than done. Microclimates vary from yard to yard. Soil is trickier than it looks. And no amount of wisdom can predict that a neighborhood cat will decide your seedbed is the perfect new litter box.

So why do we feel like failures when the inevitable happens? Why do we internalize plant loss as personal failure rather than part of the natural rhythm of gardening?

It’s because gardening, at its heart, is an act of hope. Every seed we sow and every plant we tuck into the ground is a small leap of faith. We invest time, money, effort, and emotion into something that is, by definition, unpredictable. When that hope withers, it can feel like more than just a dead plant—it can feel like a personal defeat.

But here’s the truth: losing plants doesn’t make you a bad gardener. It makes you a gardener, period.

Some of the best gardeners I know have long mental lists of the plants they have killed. They wear those failures like badges of honor because every dead plant taught them something. They learned about soil drainage, light patterns, seasonal timing, or the importance of not falling in love with a plant that simply won’t thrive in their region. Experience isn’t built on a string of successes—it’s built on a mountain of mistakes, each one offering a lesson for those willing to keep going.

And that’s the key: keep planting.

Keep experimenting. Keep trying new varieties. Keep pushing the boundaries of your garden dreams, even if it means the occasional disappointment.

Plants die. So what? Buy another plant. Dig another hole. Sprinkle another packet of seeds. Each time you do, you’re leaning into hope, into resilience, into the great joyful gamble that is gardening.

Gardening is not a performance art—it’s a relationship with the earth. Relationships, real ones, are messy. They are full of misunderstanding, trial and error, and yes, even loss. But they are also full of growth, beauty, and unexpected reward.

If you’ve ever scrolled through social media and thought, “Everyone else has it figured out but me,” remember: you’re only seeing the highlight reel. Behind those gorgeous photos are gardeners sweeping up broken branches, replacing shriveled petunias, and mourning the loss of beloved plants just like you.

Next time a plant dies in your garden, resist the urge to beat yourself up. Instead, see it as an invitation to learn something new. Was it the wrong spot? The wrong season? The wrong plant for your climate? Maybe. Or maybe it was just bad luck. Either way, your job is not to predict or control every outcome. Your job is simply to keep planting.

Gardening teaches us to live in partnership with nature, and nature—beautiful, wild, and unpredictable—does not guarantee perfection. In fact, it promises imperfection. And there is something wonderfully freeing in accepting that.

So to all the gardeners feeling like imposters: welcome. You are in good company. The real secret of gardening is not mastering nature but making peace with it. The real badge of honor is not a perfect garden, but a dirty pair of hands, a willingness to start again, and the stubborn, joyful hope that the next plant will thrive.

Keep planting. Keep hoping. Keep growing. That’s what real gardeners do.

If you have questions about your home garden or landscape, reach out to Gene Fox, Consumer Horticulture Agent with the North Carolina Cooperative Extension Service. Email Gene at gene_fox@ncsu.edu or call (252) 946-0111. Master Gardeners are available on the Greenline Mondays and Wednesdays from 10:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. to assist with your horticultural needs. Don’t forget to check out the Beaufort County Master Gardeners Facebook page for additional resources.