Let’s be honest: winter is tough. For me, it’s not the festive kind of tough—the cozy-sweater, hot-cocoa-by-the-fire kind of tough. It’s the emotional fog, seasonal apathy, I-don’t-want-to-talk-to-anyone-except-my-cat kind of tough.
My house becomes a nesting ground of mismatched socks, half-drunk tea mugs, and a truly impressive number of unfinished books. My motivation slips under the blanket and stays there. And while I still love the idea of gardening, winter-me is not about that high-maintenance plant life. Watering schedules? Daily misting? Grow lights? Please. Winter-me can barely remember to moisturize.
And that’s where neglect-tolerant plants come in—my green kindred spirits. These are the resilient, low-maintenance, quiet companions who just… hang in there. They don’t demand much. They thrive on space, patience, and a laissez-faire attitude. Just like me, these plants know how to exist in stillness. They get that sometimes, the best you can do is survive.
So here it is: a love letter to the plants that forgive, adapt, and grow—even when everything else feels stuck. If you’re like me in winter—tired, overcooked, emotionally fried—this one’s for you.
The Case for Neglect-Loving Plants
Let’s debunk a myth right out the gate: just because a plant is “easy” doesn’t mean it’s boring.
In fact, many low-maintenance plants are incredibly beautiful, wildly adaptive, and full of character. They’ve evolved to withstand harsh conditions, drought, and general chaos. Sound familiar?
And here’s the best part: cultivating these kinds of plants isn’t about “giving up” or “phoning it in.” It’s about gardening realistically. It’s about giving yourself permission to care in small, sustainable doses.
When the world gets heavy and your brain feels like a lint trap of undone tasks, these plants are not one more thing on your to-do list. They’re your green cheerleaders. Silently thriving. Quietly rooting for you.
1. Snake Plant (Sansevieria trifasciata)
AKA: The Plant That Refuses to Die
If plants had personalities, the snake plant would be the unbothered friend in sunglasses who sips iced coffee in a snowstorm.
You can forget to water it for weeks. It won’t care. In fact, overwatering is really the only way to kill it. It loves being left alone, prefers indirect light, and can live in a corner where the sun never shines.
Winter-Me Notes: I once left a snake plant alone for three months while emotionally nesting in bed. Came back to find it blooming. I cried. It was a whole thing.
2. ZZ Plant (Zamioculcas zamiifolia)
AKA: The Glossy Green Survivor
The ZZ plant is like a plant version of that one friend who always lands on their feet. House moves? No problem. Missed waterings? Shrugs it off. Awkward corner with zero light? Thrives anyway.
It grows slowly, but steadily, and its waxy leaves stay shiny no matter how little effort you give it. And it literally stores water in its thick rhizomes underground. It’s the ultimate “I got me” energy.
Winter-Me Notes: I once whispered, “Sorry, I forgot you were there,” to my ZZ plant while watering it two months late. It responded by growing a new shoot. I aspire to be this unbothered.
3. Pothos (Epipremnum aureum)
AKA: The Plant That Grows Despite Everything
Pothos is forgiving to a fault. Not enough light? Fine. Missed waterings? Sure. Repotted it once in five years? Whatever.
Its trailing vines add lush greenery to any room, and you can propagate it easily if you ever want to feel like you’ve accomplished something in five minutes. Snip, stick it in water, boom—new plant.
Winter-Me Notes: My pothos has tangled itself around my bookshelf like a lazy jungle gym. It’s been months since I last trimmed it. Honestly? She’s thriving. I think she likes the chaos.
4. Jade Plant (Crassula ovata)
AKA: The Introvert’s Succulent
This one’s for the emotionally-overdrawn. Jade plants store water in their fleshy, plump leaves, meaning they can go long stretches without needing your attention. They like dry environments, hate soggy soil, and prefer to be a little root-bound.
Keep it somewhere sunny-ish and water it only when you remember. It doesn’t take it personally.
Winter-Me Notes: My jade plant is that quiet roommate who pays rent on time and never leaves dishes in the sink. Low drama. High chill.
5. Cast Iron Plant (Aspidistra elatior)
AKA: The Goth Queen of Low Light
Want something that lives in the shadows and gives off low-key Morticia Addams energy? The cast iron plant has dark, elegant leaves and thrives in neglect. Cold room? Bad light? Forgetful waterings? Perfect.
This plant gets its name because it’s nearly indestructible. Seriously. If your apartment feels like a sad cave in winter, this one’s for you.
Winter-Me Notes: I once forgot I owned a cast iron plant. Walked past it one day and realized it had sprouted a new leaf. Felt like a sign from the universe.
6. Aloe Vera
AKA: The Self-Sustaining Healer
Aloe is basically the plant equivalent of a friend who brings soup when you’re sick but never asks for anything in return. It wants sunshine and occasional watering. That’s it.
Bonus? You can snip off a piece when you get a burn or dry skin, and it’ll soothe you like the green goddess it is. A true multi-tasking introvert.
Winter-Me Notes: My aloe has healed more cracked knuckles and weird winter rashes than any lotion. And still asks for nothing. Legend.
7. Peace Lily (Spathiphyllum)
AKA: The Plant That Just Wants a Little Humidity and Chill
Peace lilies look fancy but are surprisingly low maintenance. They’ll droop dramatically when thirsty (relatable) but bounce back within hours once watered.
They clean the air, tolerate low light, and only really get fussy if you really neglect them. But they bounce back. Every. Single. Time.
Winter-Me Notes: My peace lily is my emotional twin. We both get droopy and dramatic when parched, then perk back up with hydration and a nap.
8. Spider Plant (Chlorophytum comosum)
AKA: The Unexpected Optimist
Spider plants feel like the overachievers of the neglect-tolerant world. They’re constantly sending out little “babies” (plantlets) even if you barely pay attention. They grow fast, purify the air, and tolerate a lot of nonsense.
They’re fine in low light, handle irregular watering, and still manage to look happy. A green miracle.
Winter-Me Notes: I once gave a spider plant to a friend who didn’t know how to care for it. Three months later, it had babies. Either spider plants are magical or really good at self-parenting.
The Psychology of Low-Maintenance Gardening
There’s something deeply validating about growing things that don’t ask too much of you. When everything else feels hard—work, relationships, your own brain—it helps to succeed at something.
Neglect-tolerant plants offer that success. They say: “Hey. You didn’t water me for two weeks, but look—I grew anyway.” It’s a quiet metaphor for resilience. For holding on. For existing without pressure.
Sometimes, all you need is a little green proof that survival is still growth.
Permission to Care in Small Doses
Here’s what I’ve learned: there is no shame in scaling back. In doing the bare minimum. In saying, “I want plants in my life, but I don’t have the energy to be a Plant Parent Influencer right now.”
Plants don’t care about your mood tracker. They don’t judge your energy dips. And neglect-tolerant plants especially? They understand. They’re not here for perfection. They’re here for presence—however infrequent.
So when I’m bundled in fleece, sipping my fourth mug of tea, scrolling through memes instead of meditating, I look over at my snake plant, still standing tall. And I feel… okay.
Planting Hope (Even in Hibernation)
Winter may be my season of emotional molasses, but that doesn’t mean I stop growing. It just means the growth is slower. Quieter. Underground.
The plants I keep in this season mirror that pace. They’re not flashy. They’re not fast. But they endure.
And in the depths of that endurance, there is beauty.
Your Mess Is Welcome Here
If your home is a little messy, your life a little chaotic, and your energy a little tapped out, welcome. You’re in good company—with me, and with these wonderfully resilient plants.
You don’t need a greenhouse. You don’t need to “get your act together” first. You just need to start somewhere. Maybe it’s a pothos on your shelf. A jade on your windowsill. A snake plant in your hallway.
Pick a plant that thrives on neglect—and let it remind you that thriving doesn’t always mean blooming wildly. Sometimes, it just means surviving quietly, beautifully, and on your own time.