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Heartleaf Philodendron Care Guide

Heartleaf Philodendron Care Guide

I killed my first heartleaf philodendron in college. Overwatered it to death in about three months. Looking back, I think I watered it every time I felt guilty about not studying enough, which was pretty much daily. The poor thing never had a chance.

Fast forward ten years, and I now have three thriving heartleaf philodendrons in my apartment. One trails down from my bookshelf, another climbs up a moss pole in the corner, and the third lives in my bathroom where it seems happier than anywhere else I’ve tried. These plants taught me that sometimes the best care is just leaving them alone.

If you’re here because you just brought one home, or because yours is looking sad, I want to help you avoid my early mistakes. The heartleaf philodendron (Philodendron hederaceum) is genuinely one of the easiest houseplants you can own, but there are a few things worth knowing upfront.

This confusion drove me crazy when I started collecting plants. I’d look at photos online and genuinely could not tell which plant I was looking at. Garden centers often label them wrong, and even experienced plant people sometimes mix them up from a distance.

Here’s what finally clicked for me. Pick up a leaf and really look at it. Philodendron leaves are thinner and more delicate. They have a softer texture, almost silky. When you hold a philodendron leaf up to the light, you can see the veins pretty clearly. Pothos leaves are thicker and waxy. They feel more substantial, like they have a protective coating.

The shape helps too, though it’s subtle. Heartleaf philodendron leaves are more uniformly heart-shaped with a pronounced indent at the base where the leaf meets the stem. Pothos leaves are also heart-shaped, but they tend to be a bit more asymmetrical. Some pothos varieties have leaves that look almost lopsided.

Look at where the leaf connects to the stem. This is the giveaway that never fails. On a philodendron, the petiole (the little stem that connects the leaf to the main vine) is thin, smooth, and often has a slight curve. On pothos, there’s a small ridge or groove running along the petiole. Once you notice this detail, you’ll never confuse them again.

The new growth is different too. When my philodendron puts out a new leaf, it emerges from a cataphyll, which is basically a modified leaf that protects the new growth. It looks like a thin, papery sheath, usually light green or bronze. Pothos doesn’t do this. Their new leaves just unfurl directly from the vine wrapped in the previous leaf’s sheath.

Why does this matter? Mostly it doesn’t for basic care. Both plants like similar conditions. But if you’re trying to propagate them or diagnose a problem, knowing which plant you actually have makes troubleshooting much easier. I spent weeks trying to figure out why my “philodendron” wasn’t responding to adjustments before realizing it was actually a pothos and needed different light levels.

My first philodendron sat on a shelf about eight feet from a north-facing window. It survived, but it didn’t grow. The vines got leggy and the spaces between leaves (nodes) stretched out longer and longer. I thought I was doing something wrong with water or fertilizer. Turns out, it just wanted more light.

Heartleaf philodendrons can tolerate low light, which is why people say they’re perfect for offices and dim corners. But tolerating and thriving are very different things. In low light, your plant will hang on. It won’t die quickly. But it also won’t put out those gorgeous, tight, compact vines with closely-spaced leaves that make these plants so beautiful.

I’ve had the best results with bright, indirect light. My happiest philodendron sits about three feet from an east-facing window. It gets gentle morning sun for a couple hours, then bright indirect light the rest of the day. The growth is fast, the leaves are a rich green, and the vines stay compact.

You can push them a bit into direct sun if you’re careful. My bathroom philodendron gets about an hour of direct morning light through a frosted window, and it’s fine. But I tried moving one to a south-facing window once and the leaves started getting crispy brown edges within a week. The afternoon sun through that window was just too intense. According to research from the University of Florida’s Environmental Horticulture Department, philodendrons in their native habitat grow under the forest canopy where they receive dappled, filtered light rather than direct sun exposure.

If you only have low light spaces, the plant will live. Just know that growth will be slow, and you’ll need to adjust your watering accordingly. Plants in low light use less water because they’re photosynthesizing less. I learned this the hard way with that first plant I killed.

One thing I’ve noticed is that these plants will tell you if they’re unhappy with light. Too little light and the vines get spindly with big gaps between leaves. The new leaves might also come in smaller than the old ones. Too much direct sun and you’ll see pale, washed-out leaves or brown crispy patches where the sun hit too hard.

Detail view of the plant problem Above: A close up look at the symptoms.

This is where I went wrong with my first plant. I watered on a schedule, every Sunday morning, like clockwork. Didn’t matter if the soil was wet or dry. Sunday meant water day.

Forget schedules. I know that’s frustrating advice when you want a clear rule to follow, but these plants need you to pay attention to the soil, not the calendar.

I check my philodendrons by sticking my finger about two inches into the soil. If it feels dry at that depth, I water. If it still feels damp, I leave it alone. In summer, this usually means watering every five to seven days. In winter, it might stretch to ten days or more because the plant is barely growing and the soil dries slower.

The pot size matters more than people realize. I have one philodendron in a six-inch pot and another in a four-inch pot, even though they’re about the same size. The one in the smaller pot dries out almost twice as fast. More soil holds more water for longer.

When I do water, I water thoroughly. I take the plant to the sink and water until I see it running out the drainage holes. Then I let it drain completely before putting it back. This ensures the entire root ball gets wet and helps prevent salt buildup from fertilizer and tap water.

Here’s something I wish someone had told me earlier. Yellow leaves usually mean overwatering, but they can also mean underwatering. The difference is in how the leaf yellows. Overwatering typically causes yellowing that starts from the base of the leaf and the leaf stays firm until it falls off. Underwatering causes yellowing that starts at the tips and edges, and the leaf might feel dry or crispy.

I’ve noticed my philodendrons are pretty forgiving about occasional underwatering. The vines might droop a bit, but they perk back up after a good soak. Overwatering is harder to recover from because it can lead to root rot. Once the roots start rotting, you’re in trouble.

The type of water matters less than you’d think. I use tap water and my plants are fine. Some people swear by filtered water or letting tap water sit out overnight to let chlorine evaporate. I tried this for a few months and didn’t notice any difference, so I went back to straight tap water. If your tap water is heavily chlorinated or very hard, you might see brown leaf tips, but I haven’t had that problem.

I used regular potting soil from the grocery store for years, and my philodendrons did okay. But when I finally mixed my own soil, the difference was obvious. The plants grew faster, the roots looked healthier when I repotted, and I had fewer issues with overwatering.

The key is drainage. Philodendrons like their soil to be moist but not soggy. Regular potting soil holds too much water for too long, especially if you’re like me and get a little trigger-happy with the watering can.

My current mix is pretty simple. I use about 60% regular potting soil, 20% perlite, and 20% orchid bark. The perlite creates air pockets so the roots can breathe. The orchid bark adds more drainage and breaks down slowly over time, which adds organic matter. You can also use coco coir instead of some of the potting soil if you want something that holds moisture but drains faster.

I tried a mix with more perlite once (about 40%) thinking more drainage would be better. The soil dried out so fast I had to water every three days, which was annoying. The 20% ratio seems to hit the sweet spot where the soil holds enough moisture but doesn’t stay wet.

Some people add worm castings or compost for extra nutrients. I haven’t bothered because I fertilize regularly anyway, but it wouldn’t hurt. Research published in the Journal of Environmental Horticulture suggests that organic amendments can improve soil structure and water retention in container plants, though the benefits are most noticeable in larger pots.

You don’t need to repot into fresh soil every year. I usually refresh the soil every two years or when the plant gets root-bound. You can tell it’s root-bound when roots start coming out the drainage holes or circling around the inside of the pot when you pull the plant out.

One mistake I made was using a pot that was too big, thinking it would save me from repotting as often. The plant sat in that wet soil for weeks because there weren’t enough roots to use up the water. I ended up with root rot and had to take cuttings to save it. Go up only one pot size when you repot, maybe two inches larger in diameter at most.

Tools and setup for the fix Above: The tools you need to fix this.

I have philodendrons in both setups now, and they honestly look like different plants. The one in my hanging basket has long, trailing vines that hang down about four feet. The leaves are nice but relatively small, maybe two to three inches across. The one on the moss pole has much larger leaves, some reaching five inches, and the whole plant looks fuller and more mature.

This confused me at first because they’re the same species, but it makes sense when you think about how these plants grow in nature. Philodendrons are climbing plants. In the wild, they grow up trees toward the light. As they climb higher, they get more light, and the leaves get bigger. When we let them trail down from a hanging basket, we’re basically forcing them to grow in the opposite direction from their natural habit.

If you want a trailing plant for visual effect, hanging baskets work great. I love the look of those long vines cascading down. It’s also easier because you don’t need to fuss with supports or tying anything up. Just let it grow and occasionally trim it back if it gets too long.

But if you want bigger leaves and a fuller plant, give it something to climb. I use a moss pole because it holds moisture, and the plant’s aerial roots can actually grip onto it. You can buy these at most garden centers, or make your own with a wooden stake wrapped in coconut coir.

Getting the plant to climb takes a little work at first. I use soft plant ties or even just twist ties to gently attach the vines to the pole. Don’t tie too tight because the stems will thicken as they grow. Once the plant gets established on the pole and the aerial roots start attaching, it becomes self-supporting.

I mist my moss pole every few days to keep it damp. The aerial roots like the moisture, and I think it encourages the plant to attach better. Some people say this doesn’t matter, but I’ve noticed my plant seems to climb more eagerly when the pole stays moist.

You can also use a trellis, a bamboo stake, or even let it climb up a wall if you don’t mind it attaching with its aerial roots. My friend has one climbing up her kitchen wall, and it looks amazing, but she’s accepted that when she eventually moves, the aerial roots might leave marks on the paint.

One thing about climbing plants is that you can’t really let them get too wild. With a trailing plant, I just let the vines go wherever. With a climber, I need to check every few weeks and redirect any vines that are going rogue or tie up new growth. It’s not hard, just takes a few minutes.

The choice really comes down to what you want visually and how much space you have. My hanging basket philodendron lives in a spot where I couldn’t fit a tall pole anyway. The climbing one is in a corner where vertical space made more sense than horizontal.

These plants are forgiving enough that you can always change your mind later. I’ve moved vines from hanging to climbing and back again. They adapt pretty quickly.

University of Florida Environmental Horticulture Department. “Philodendron Production Guide.” EDIS Publication ENH1214. https://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/

Chen, J., et al. “Effects of Growing Media on Container Plant Growth and Root Development.” Journal of Environmental Horticulture, vol. 31, no. 2, 2013, pp. 89-97.