
I’ve spent enough years in gardens to know one simple truth: not every pretty plant deserves a place in your yard. Some of the most dazzling climbers, shrubs, and perennials — the ones stacked high in every nursery come spring — can quickly reveal themselves as thugs in disguise. I’ve seen them smother borders, strangle trees, and march far beyond where anyone intended them to grow.
Don’t get me wrong, I understand the temptation. I’ve fallen for it myself. Who hasn’t been seduced by a cascade of wisteria blooms or the fiery foliage of burning bush? But beauty without boundaries comes at a price. Once these plants sink their roots in, you’re often signing yourself up for years of battle with runners, seedlings, or tangled vines. And in too many cases, the fight doesn’t stop at the garden gate — these species leap into the wider landscape, outcompeting natives and unbalancing entire ecosystems.
That’s why I’ve learned to look past the instant allure and think long-term. Today, I choose plants that not only bring beauty but also support the local soil, pollinators, and wildlife. In this guide, I’ll walk you through ten of the worst offenders I’ve wrestled with over the years — and more importantly, the native alternatives I now rely on to keep gardens thriving without the nightmares.
Native vs. aggressive vs. invasive

Not every fast grower in the garden is a troublemaker — but invasive plants are in a category all their own. By definition, they’re non-native species that spread so aggressively they begin to outcompete local plants. The U.S. Forest Service goes a step further and classifies them as plants likely to cause economic or environmental harm, or even harm to human health.
Here’s the catch: invasive doesn’t always mean “vigorous.” Plenty of native plants spread quickly — think of black-eyed Susans or goldenrod — but because they belong here, they’re still part of a balanced ecosystem. The problem with invasive species is that they’re outsiders. Once they settle in, they often run unchecked because there are no natural controls (like insects or diseases) to slow them down.
That’s why one plant might be beloved in one region and banned in another. A vine that behaves politely in Colorado can turn into a forest-smothering nightmare in Virginia. The smartest approach? Check with your local Cooperative Extension or native plant society to find out what’s considered invasive where you live.
Why It Matters
Invasive plants don’t just hog space in your flower beds — they push out the native plants that pollinators, birds, and wildlife depend on. Over time, that loss of diversity has a domino effect: fewer insects, fewer birds, and less resilience in the whole ecosystem.

They’re also notoriously hard to remove. Many have deep, woody roots or spread by runners and rhizomes, so even if you pull out one clump, new shoots can pop up feet away. Some, like Japanese knotweed, can regrow from a piece of root smaller than your finger.
The impact is bigger than just your backyard. The U.S. Forest Service reports that invasive plants have contributed to the decline of 42% of threatened and endangered species in the U.S. They also strain agriculture, reduce water quality, and transform natural habitats into monocultures where very little else can survive.
10 Popular Plants That Are Invasive
In every region of the U.S., there are garden favorites that look beautiful at first but turn into serious pests once they settle in. They spread fast, push out native plants, and sometimes escape into nearby woodlands or fields where they cause lasting damage.
What makes them especially tricky is that these plants are still widely sold, so it’s easy for gardeners to bring one home without realizing the long-term consequences. To save you the trouble, here are five popular plants I’ve seen create more problems than benefits — along with the native alternatives that will give you beauty without the invasion.
1: Japanese Honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica)

Few vines smell sweeter on a summer night than Japanese honeysuckle. Its white-and-yellow blooms carry a nostalgic fragrance, and the way it twines quickly over a fence or arbor makes it a tempting choice for instant romance in the garden. For a season or two, it can feel like the perfect cottage-style climber.
But planted in the ground, this vine soon shows its darker side. Japanese honeysuckle spreads by underground runners and rooting stems, racing up trees, smothering shrubs, and forming dense thickets that block out native plants. Once it takes hold, it’s incredibly difficult to remove — even small root fragments can resprout. It’s now considered invasive in many U.S. states, especially across the Southeast and Midwest, where it pushes out valuable native vegetation.
A Better Alternative: Trumpet honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens). A native U.S. vine, it offers clusters of coral-red tubular flowers that hummingbirds love, and it climbs steadily without overwhelming its support. Hardy in USDA zones 4–9, trumpet honeysuckle gives you the romance and color of honeysuckle without the invasive headaches.
2: Butterfly Bush (Buddleja davidii)

I’ll admit, I once planted butterfly bush for the same reason most gardeners do — the sheer thrill of seeing butterflies flock to its fragrant purple blooms. For a summer border, it feels like an instant win: colorful, fast-growing, and buzzing with life.
But over time I learned the drawbacks. Buddleja davidii produces thousands of seeds that spread far beyond the garden. In several U.S. states it’s listed as invasive, colonizing roadsides, riverbanks, and disturbed ground where it quickly outcompetes native plants. And while the flowers feed adult butterflies, the shrub provides almost nothing for caterpillars, birds, or other wildlife — so its ecological value is far less than advertised.
A Better Alternative: These days I recommend lilac (Syringa vulgaris). It offers that same burst of color and fragrance in spring, but without the invasive spread. Hardy in USDA zones 3–7, lilacs are easy to grow, long-lived, and genuinely rewarding shrubs that don’t upset the balance of the landscape. You’ll still enjoy the butterflies and bees — and your garden won’t become a seed source for a bigger problem.
3: Chinese and Japanese Wisteria (Wisteria sinensis and Wisteria floribunda)

Few climbers make such a dramatic statement as wisteria. I still remember the first time I saw a pergola dripping with its lavender-blue blooms — the fragrance, the sheer abundance, the way the flowers seemed to cascade like a waterfall. It’s no wonder Chinese and Japanese wisterias became so widely planted.
But what feels enchanting in the first season can turn into a long-term headache. Both species are vigorous woody vines that twine so tightly they can strangle young trees, warp fences, and even pull down structures. In many U.S. states they’re listed as invasive, spreading into woodlands where they overwhelm native vegetation. And once established, their thick roots and persistent shoots make removal incredibly difficult. Keeping them in check requires heavy pruning twice a year, and even then, they’re never truly tame.
A Better Alternative: American wisteria (Wisteria frutescens). This U.S. native is far less aggressive but still produces lovely clusters of purple blooms. Cultivars like Amethyst Falls flower reliably and won’t take down your pergola in the process. Hardy in USDA zones 5–9, American wisteria gives you the romance of cascading blossoms without the invasive risks.
4: English Ivy (Hedera helix)

It’s easy to fall for English ivy. With its glossy evergreen leaves and ability to drape over walls, fences, and shaded corners, it brings an instant old-world charm to the garden. I planted it once, thinking it would be the perfect backdrop — but it didn’t take long before it started showing its less charming side.
Ivy spreads aggressively, rooting wherever it touches, and once it climbs trees or structures it’s nearly impossible to get rid of. In many U.S. regions, it’s classified as invasive because it smothers native plants and threatens trees by adding weight and blocking sunlight. I’ve seen it form dense carpets under trees, leaving no room for wildflowers or groundcovers to survive.
A Better Alternative: Virginia creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia). This U.S. native vine provides the same leafy coverage as ivy but grows with a lighter touch. It clings to walls and fences, turning brilliant shades of red in fall, and its berries provide food for birds. Hardy in USDA zones 3–9, Virginia creeper gives you the lush, climbing look many gardeners love — with the added benefit of supporting local wildlife instead of competing against it.
5: Purple Loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria)

At first glance, purple loosestrife is a showstopper. Its tall spikes of magenta flowers bloom for weeks in midsummer, and I can see why so many gardeners have been tempted to add it to damp spots or pond edges. A drift of it in full flower can look almost painterly, and for a while I thought it was one of the most dramatic perennials you could grow.
But looks can be deceiving. Purple loosestrife spreads aggressively by both seeds and rhizomes, and once it finds its way into wetlands or stream banks, it forms dense colonies that choke out native plants. In many U.S. states it’s listed as a noxious invasive, with real ecological consequences — entire wetlands have been overrun, leaving little habitat for birds, fish, or pollinators. Once established, it’s nearly impossible to eradicate.
A Better Alternative: Blazing star (Liatris spicata). This U.S. native perennial produces tall purple flower spikes that bloom in midsummer, offering the same vertical drama without the invasiveness. Hardy in USDA zones 3–9, blazing star is also a magnet for butterflies, bees, and other pollinators, making it a beautiful and ecologically valuable replacement for purple loosestrife.
6: Burning Bush (Euonymus alatus)

Few shrubs put on a show quite like burning bush. In autumn, its foliage turns a brilliant scarlet, lighting up hedges and borders with fiery color. I planted it once for that very reason — nothing else seemed to match its intensity in fall, and it delivered exactly the punch of color I was hoping for.
But over time, burning bush proved to be more than just a garden plant. It produces copious berries that birds spread into surrounding woodlands, fields, and roadsides. Once established, it forms dense thickets that shade out native wildflowers and young trees. Today, Euonymus alatus is listed as invasive across much of the Northeast and Midwest, including states like Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, Pennsylvania, and Illinois. In these regions, it’s no longer recommended for planting — and in some cases, it’s outright banned from sale.
A Better Alternative: Red chokeberry (Aronia arbutifolia). This U.S. native shrub offers the same brilliant fall color, along with clusters of white spring flowers and glossy red berries that persist into winter. Hardy in USDA zones 4–9, chokeberry provides year-round interest and supports birds and pollinators — all without the invasive risks of burning bush.
7: Lantana (Lantana camara)

Lantana is one of those plants that wins you over quickly. With its clusters of bright flowers that shift colors as they age — yellow to orange, pink to red — it blooms nonstop through summer and draws in butterflies by the dozen. I’ve grown it myself in containers, and it’s easy to see why so many gardeners love it for that splash of vibrant color.
But in the ground, especially in warmer regions, lantana can become a real problem. In USDA zones 9–11, Lantana camara survives year-round and spreads aggressively, forming dense thickets that crowd out native plants. It’s classified as invasive in states like Florida, Texas, and Hawaii, where it alters habitats and displaces native species. On top of that, its leaves and berries are toxic to pets and livestock, making it risky in family yards and pastures.
A Better Alternative: Butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa). This U.S. native perennial offers clusters of brilliant orange blooms that are just as striking as lantana, but with the added benefit of being a host plant for monarch butterflies. Hardy in USDA zones 3–9, butterfly weed provides long-lasting color, thrives in poor soils, and supports pollinators without the invasive drawbacks of lantana.
8: Japanese Barberry (Berberis thunbergii)

Japanese barberry is a shrub that’s hard not to admire at first. Its compact shape, deep burgundy foliage, and bright red berries add instant color and structure to a garden border. It’s also tolerant of poor soils and shade, which made it a go-to shrub in suburban landscapes for years.
The problem is how well it escapes cultivation. Birds spread its seeds into forests and fields, where it forms dense thickets that outcompete native plants. In the Northeast and upper Midwest, Berberis thunbergii has invaded thousands of acres of woodland understory. Even worse, research has linked barberry thickets to higher populations of deer ticks, which increases the risk of Lyme disease in humans. Several states, including Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire, and New York, now restrict or ban its sale.
A Better Alternative: Ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius). This U.S. native shrub offers colorful foliage in shades of deep purple, bronze, or gold (depending on the cultivar), along with clusters of white spring flowers and attractive peeling bark for winter interest. Hardy in USDA zones 3–7, ninebark provides the same ornamental appeal as barberry while supporting pollinators and avoiding invasive risks.
9: Japanese Anemones (Anemone × hybrida, Anemone hupehensis)

Japanese anemones are undeniably elegant. Blooming from late summer into fall, their tall stems carry delicate pink, mauve, or white flowers that sway gracefully in the breeze. I’ve admired them in cottage-style borders where they seem to float above the foliage, adding a touch of romance just when the rest of the garden begins to fade.
The challenge is how persistent they can be once planted. These perennials spread by underground rhizomes, and in the right soil — especially sandy or loamy beds — they can quickly run through borders, crowding out neighboring plants. I’ve known gardeners who planted a single clump only to find it popping up everywhere a few years later. While not as notorious as some invasives, Japanese anemones are aggressive enough to become a long-term headache if you don’t have the space to manage them.
A Better Native Alternative: White wood aster (Eurybia divaricata). This U.S. native perennial carries the same airy elegance, with clouds of starry white flowers that dance above dark green foliage from late summer into fall. Hardy in USDA zones 3–8, it brightens shady borders, supports pollinators, and provides the same light, romantic touch as Japanese anemones — but without the invasive spread.
10: Houttuynia (Houttuynia cordata)

Houttuynia often catches the eye with its colorful, heart-shaped leaves splashed in green, cream, and red. The ‘Chameleon’ variety in particular looks striking as a groundcover, brightening shady corners with a tropical flair. I planted it once, thinking it would be a bold, low-maintenance choice to fill an empty bed.
But I quickly learned how aggressive it can be. Houttuynia spreads by thick underground rhizomes, and once it settles in, it’s incredibly hard to control. Even small root fragments left behind can regenerate, allowing it to creep under fences, into lawns, and through perennial borders. In many U.S. gardens, it has earned a reputation as nearly impossible to eradicate once it escapes its intended spot. What begins as a colorful accent can turn into a carpet that smothers everything else.
A Better Alternative: Foamflower (Tiarella cordifolia). This U.S. native groundcover produces attractive, heart-shaped leaves and delicate spikes of white spring flowers. Hardy in USDA zones 3–8, foamflower spreads gently without overwhelming its neighbors, making it a much safer and more rewarding choice for shady beds.
11: Bear’s Breeches (Acanthus mollis)

Bear’s breeches is undeniably striking. Its bold, glossy leaves and tall flower spikes add an almost architectural feel to borders, and it’s easy to see why so many gardeners have tried it for dramatic effect. I once thought it would be the perfect focal point in a summer border — until I learned how persistent it can be.
This perennial spreads through deep, fleshy roots that are nearly impossible to remove once established. Even the smallest fragment can resprout, which means controlling it often turns into a long-term battle. In some parts of the U.S., it’s considered invasive, and I’ve seen firsthand how it can push out neighboring perennials and dominate a bed.
A Better Alternative: Joe Pye Weed (Eutrochium purpureum). This tall U.S. native perennial reaches 5–7 feet, producing large clusters of pink-purple blooms in late summer that pollinators adore. Hardy in USDA zones 4–9, Joe Pye Weed brings the same commanding presence as bear’s breeches, but with ecological benefits — feeding butterflies and bees while blending beautifully into a border or naturalized planting.
12: Norway Maple (Acer platanoides)

For decades, Norway maple was one of the most planted shade trees in American yards and city streets. It was admired for its toughness — able to handle compacted soil, air pollution, and harsh urban conditions — and its golden fall color gave it undeniable curb appeal. I’ve walked down neighborhoods lined with them, and at first glance, they can look breathtaking.
The problem is what happens beyond the sidewalk. Norway maples produce a heavy seed crop each year, and those seedlings sprout easily, especially at woodland edges. Before long, they create dense stands that block light from reaching the forest floor. I’ve seen patches where little else can grow — no wildflowers, no young oaks or maples — just a monoculture of Norway maple. In many Northeastern and Midwestern states, it’s now considered invasive for its ability to alter entire ecosystems.
A Better Native Alternative: Red maple (Acer rubrum). This U.S. native is equally versatile, growing in a wide range of soils, but it supports local wildlife and delivers some of the best fall color you’ll ever see — brilliant reds, oranges, and golds. Hardy in USDA zones 3–9, it brings the same shade and seasonal beauty, but in a way that strengthens rather than harms local landscapes.

Written By
Amber Noyes
Amber Noyes was born and raised in a suburban California town, San Mateo. She holds a master’s degree in horticulture from the University of California as well as a BS in Biology from the University of San Francisco. With experience working on an organic farm, water conservation research, farmers’ markets, and plant nursery, she understands what makes plants thrive and how we can better understand the connection between microclimate and plant health. When she’s not on the land, Amber loves informing people of new ideas/things related to gardening, especially organic gardening, houseplants, and growing plants in a small space.