When I got into houseplants in late 2021, I had very little experience growing them. Or, to be more precise, my experience usually followed the same pattern: I bought a plant, brought it home, and before long, it no longer looked anything like it had in the shop 🤭
Now I know why. First, my watering routine was questionable at best. Second, I kept putting plants in places that were far too dark. The middle of the room looked perfectly bright to me. And the pots without drainage 🫣 Oh, the things I didn’t know!
I’ve always loved plants, though, and throwing away a sad, struggling plant was never much fun. And once my houseplant obsession properly kicked off, it wasn’t exactly a smooth ride. There have been casualties along the way. Thankfully, I eventually learned how to propagate plants, which made things a little less tragic 😅
In the beginning, I bought pretty much anything green I could get my hands on 🤣 A Monstera deliciosa from IKEA? Absolutely. Three houseplants for ten euros at the supermarket? Into the basket. Whatever Lidl happened to be selling that week? Don’t mind if I do!
Then I discovered Facebook groups dedicated to houseplants 🤩 That’s where things started to get interesting.
I came across different varieties of Epipremnum aureum, commonly known as golden pothos. My grandmother had a golden pothos climbing all over her kitchen wall, so I knew the plant well. But there were so many different varieties? With different colours, patterns and leaf shapes? 😮
Naturally, I had to investigate 🤗
My very first cutting was a Manjula, and that little plant opened a door I haven’t quite managed to close since.
N’Joy, Global Green, Shangri-La… One variety led to another, and before I knew it, collecting pothos had become a hobby of its own.
And because apparently one type of pothos wasn’t enough, I started collecting Scindapsus too 😅
Next came the Syngoniums. There were some fantastic varieties available at the time, and I got completely carried away. At the height of my Syngonium phase, I had around 50 different varieties in my collection. Fifty!
Then came the Marantas.
Their colourful foliage, intricate patterns and wonderfully entertaining new leaves had me completely captivated. There was always something new to admire 😍
And then I discovered Ficus elastica ‘Tineke’… What a beauty! Obviously, one Ficus wasn’t going to be enough. It needed companions. And while I was at it, I started collecting snake plants (Dracaena trifasciata, formerly Sansevieria) too!
I’ve always had a collector’s instinct. Give me something with enough varieties to hunt down, and I’m a happy woman 😄
Somehow, I still had room for more plants in my green room.
Somehow.
My first Monsteras were a good old Monstera deliciosa and a Monstera adansonii, both from IKEA.
But then I discovered variegated Monsteras
I spent ages admiring photos of Monstera deliciosa ‘Albo Variegata’ on Facebook. The plants were gorgeous, but the prices? Not exactly impulse-buy territory. (I don’t work, I’m on the disability pension)
A whole new world of Monsteras, rare varieties and eye-watering prices opened up when I joined another Facebook group dedicated to these leafy beauties.
One example that still makes me blink: cuttings of Monstera ‘Burle Marx Flame’ could cost around €1,000. For a cutting. Let that sink in 🤯
Then, at some point, something wonderful happened.
A lovely woman offered me a piece of variegated Monstera stem for the cost of postage alone because she hadn’t managed to get it growing.
I was absolutely over the moon!
I gave that little piece of stem its own grow light and watched it like a hawk. Slowly, a growth point began to swell. I kept checking it, fascinated by every tiny change.
And then, finally, a new leaf appeared.
That leaf was a huge personal victory. I had grown my very own Monstera Albo Variegata! 🤍💚🤍
I was officially hooked 💖
My diligent Facebook browsing eventually paid off again. I managed to get my hands on a Monstera Thai Constellation, more Monstera cuttings and other little plants to grow on.
Something had to make room for all these new arrivals.
The Marantas had their moment in the spotlight, but it was time to move some of them along.
I had officially become a Monstera lover ❣️
And that’s where we are today
Fast-forward to now, and my collection looks rather different from those first three-for-ten-euros purchases.
I have more than 60 varieties of golden pothos, and my Scindapsus collection is getting close to that number too.
My peace lilies have their own corner in the green room. My cactus collection occasionally changes location, depending on where it can best fit into the grand scheme of things.
But the Monsteras?
They get the prime spots under my grow lights. Naturally.
Then I discovered moss poles, and my obsession reached another level. Watching Monsteras climb and develop bigger, more mature leaves is incredibly rewarding.
There is, however, one small problem: you can’t necessarily keep every Monstera on a moss pole if you want to retain some living space. They grow, they climb, and before you know it, you’re negotiating with a plant the size of a small tree.
I’m slowly learning that lesson. Slowly being the operative word 🤭
And let’s not forget the Alocasias, which also had their moment in my heart, or the Philodendrons. I still have a few of those, and the emotional attachment is simply too strong to let them go.
Apparently, plants can become sentimental clutter. The leafy kind.
If I could keep only one plant genus…
After all the pothos, Scindapsus, Syngoniums, Marantas, Ficus, cacti, Alocasias and Philodendrons, you can probably guess my answer.
Monsteras. Every single time 💚
There’s something about their leaves, their changing shapes, their climbing habits and the way they mature that keeps me fascinated. There’s always another variety to discover, another leaf to admire, or another plant project to dream up.
What started with a few ordinary houseplants has turned into a home filled with greenery, grow lights, moss poles and the occasional questionable purchasing decision.
And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
