Serial Plant Killers Anonymous: 7 Houseplants Even You Can’t Murder

Serial Plant Killers Anonymous: 7 Houseplants Even You Can’t Murder

Jun 14, 2025 | Lifestyle | 0 comments

Step away from the plastic fern, darling—real, breathing greenery is easier than you think.

Why My Plants Used to File for Restraining Orders

True confession: I once crisped a peace lily so badly it looked like biltong. I blamed “black thumb genetics” until I learned that some plants actually like benign neglec, and many are sold right here in Mzansi through Takealot, Builders, and every Saturday-morning market between Durbanville and Durban. Research backs it up: species such as snake plant and pothos not only survive dim flats but actively scrub indoor air of volatile nasties.

Ready to stop the botanical bloodshed? Meet my magnificent seven.

1 | Snake Plant (Sansevieria trifasciata)—The Zombie

What it wants: One cup of water a month, maybe a compliment every quarter.
Drama factor: 1/10. You could forget it behind the couch for a season; it would merely smirk and photosynthesise. NASA’s famous clean-air study put snake plants near the top for formaldehyde removal.
Buy it: R 170 for a 17 cm pot at Cape Garden Centre (ships nationwide).

2 | ZZ Plant (Zamioculcas zamiifolia)—The Zen Master

What it wants: Low light, sporadic watering, zero gossip.
Why you’ll love it: Glossy leaves that look polished even when Eskom doesn’t power the polish cloth. Garden writers rank it among the hardiest “set-and-forget” options.
Buy it: R 200 via Happy Life Plants; arrives swaddled like a newborn.

3 | Golden Pothos (Epipremnum aureum)—The Over-Achiever

What it wants: Anything from bright-ish corner to bookshelf gloom.
Party trick: Trails of variegated leaves that forgive missed waterings the way Labradors forgive bad tennis-ball throws. Extension experts call pothos “excellent for beginners.”
Buy it: 15 cm hanging basket, R 140 on Plantify, just unbox, hang, and brag.

4 | Spider Plant (Chlorophytum comosum)—The Multiplying Matriarch

What it wants: Occasional sunbeam, weekly sip.
Why it’s cool: Shoots out baby “spiderettes” you can pot up and gift (or keep, no judgment). Featured in 2025 “fast-growing houseplants” round-ups for good reason.
Buy it: R 150 from Botanical Heaven, comes with two free offspring already dangling.

5 | Peace Lily (Spathiphyllum spp.)—The Drama Queen (But in a Good Way)

What it wants: Dappled light, evenly moist soil.
Life hack: Leaves droop when thirsty, then bounce back after watering, built-in reminder for the forgetful. South-African supermarket Woollies sells a 14 cm specimen for under R 140.

6 | Aloe Vera—The Medic

What it wants: Bright light, sandy soil, the odd sunburned human to rescue.
Bonus: Gel inside treats minor burns and mosquito bites, first-aid kit on a stem. Gardening mags list aloe among 2025’s “best low-light succulents.”
Buy it: Builders Warehouse, R 79 per chunky starter.

7 | Rubber Plant (Ficus elastica)—The Statement Piece

What it wants: Indirect light, fortnightly water, occasional leaf-wipe (it’s vain like that).
Reward: Insta-worthy glossy foliage that says “I’ve got my life together” even if you’re Googling “load-shedding dinner ideas.” Decofurn sells a 15 cm potted stunner for R 175.00 from Plantify.

Quick-Start Care Plan (No Latin Required)

  1. Light: If you can read without squinting, the plant’s fine.
  2. Water: Finger test, soil dry 3 cm down? Water. Still damp? Step away.
  3. Food: A slow-release pellet every spring; skip if you forget, nobody dies.
  4. Pots: Drainage holes are non-negotiable; saucers catch the guilt.

Do that, and you’ll be the smug friend doling out baby spider plants by Christmas.

The Soft Life Isn’t Lazy: Why Rest Guilt Is a Lie We Need to Unlearn

The Soft Life Isn’t Lazy: Why Rest Guilt Is a Lie We Need to Unlearn

May 6, 2025 | Personal Growth, Real Life, Self-Care, Wellness + Recovery | 0 comments

Rest Like a Rebel: Why the Soft Life Still Feels So Damn Hard

Let’s talk about something no one warns you about when you start unlearning hustle culture: rest guilt.

Even now, after years of therapy and self-work, rest still makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.

I’ll be lying down—genuinely exhausted—and my brain will whisper that old poison: You should be working. You’re wasting time. You’re falling behind.

It’s not just internal. It’s cultural. We live in a world that worships busyness and treats slowing down like a character flaw. Choosing the soft life? That’s practically a subversive act.

I used to think rest was something you had to earn

Back when I was still trying to prove I was “normal” enough to keep up with a productivity-obsessed world, I saw rest as a luxury. A reward. Something you got after you did everything else: cleared the inbox, made dinner, replied to every text, pushed through every signal your body was sending.

But here’s the thing: the list never ends. The emails don’t stop. And if you live with chronic pain, burnout, trauma, neurodivergence, or literally any human vulnerability, waiting until it’s all done means you’ll never, ever rest.

The soft life; this idea of living gently, of choosing rest and slowness over grind and self-abandonment, isn’t something I just “have.” It’s something I have to actively choose. Every single day.

Some days I choose softness. Some days I don’t.

Some days, I override every signal my body sends. I hustle. I numb out. I spiral. The voice of internalised capitalism tells me I’m lazy, and I believe it.

But on the days I do choose rest?

It changes everything; not in some dramatic, movie-montage kind of way, but in small, sacred shifts.

Like:

  • Letting myself wake up without rushing or doomscrolling.
  • Drinking tea without multitasking.
  • Crying in the bath without apologising to myself.
  • Watching something light and letting that joy be enough.

These aren’t indulgences. They’re survival. They’re the daily rituals of someone trying to live outside the grind. Someone practising rest as resistance.

Softness isn’t weakness. It’s power in a quieter voice.

We don’t talk enough about how hard it is to choose the soft life in a culture built on overwork. It’s easier to stay busy than to feel. Easier to push through than to sit with what’s underneath.

But every time you choose rest, even when it feels wrong, you’re undoing a little piece of the lie that says your worth is in your output.

You’re reclaiming your humanity.

Maybe the real revolution isn’t about never feeling rest guilt. Maybe it’s about doing it anyway. Choosing softness. Slowing down. Giving yourself care without a justification.

The world doesn’t need more burned-out people who’ve forgotten how to breathe.

It needs people who’ve come home to themselves.

People who say no without a paragraph of explanation.

People who laugh, and cry, and rest, and rage; and don’t apologise for any of it.

Still feel guilty for resting? Yeah. Me too.

You’re not alone. You’re not lazy. You’re just unlearning a system that never had your best interest at heart.

Want to explore this more? Drop a comment below and tell me: What’s your relationship with rest right now? Let’s talk about it. Let’s make softness a conversation, not a secret.