All Posts

She came to me after trying everything. The books, the sleep hygiene, the supplements, the strict routines, the tracking apps, the discipline. She is analytical, structured, a problem-solver by profession. In banking, she fixes complex mortgage situations all day long. Problem A. Problem B. Fix them both. Outcome solved. She approached her insomnia the same way — and she was exhausted. Not just from lack of sleep, but from trying so hard to fix it. When she started working wi

The Snow That Never Fell The 15 centimeters of snow never came. But the emotional reaction did. And that’s the part I want you to think about tonight. How many predicted sleep disasters never actually happened? How many nights you were sure would be awful turned out manageable? How much energy are you spending bracing for storms that may not come? Last night, something shocking happened. I live here in Montreal — and for once, we were not hit with the blizzard. Everyone else

This morning my two-year-old grandson staged a quiet rebellion. He was standing in the hallway, tiny boots in hand, coat half on, hat somewhere in the vicinity. He knows how to do it all. He’s done it before. Boots? Manageable. Coat? Fine. Hat? Slightly sideways, but acceptable. And then someone said it. “Let’s go! Hurry up! We’re going to miss the bus!” He slowly lowered himself to the floor. Not dramatic. Not screaming. Just… shutdown. Blank stare. System overload. It wasn’

She didn’t come to me because she couldn’t sleep. She came because she didn’t want to need alcohol anymore. Let’s call her Rachel. She’s in her 30s. A teacher. A mother of five. Living in Lakewood. The kind of woman who shows up. She manages carpools, Holidays, homework, simchas, repairs, grocery runs, and a classroom full of children. From the outside, she looks steady. Capable. Fine. At night, when the house finally quiets down, she pours a drink. Not to party. Not to escap

A few years ago, white noise was the thing. Then it was magnesium. Then grounding mats. Now? Apparently, we’re all supposed to know whether we’re a delta sleeper or a theta sleeper . And I can’t help but ask: Are sleep frequencies actually helping us sleep…or are they just the newest thing to worry about at 11:42 p.m.? Because if you’re already struggling with insomnia, the last thing you need is another metric to optimize. Let’s talk about it. What Are Sleep Frequencies? Wh

Every Sunday morning in Montreal, while most of us are negotiating with our coffee mugs and questioning whether pajamas count as socially acceptable attire, a group of people walks straight into freezing water. Snow crunches underfoot. Ice lines the shoreline. Breath rises in white clouds. And they step in anyway. Not metaphorically. Actually. Into icy, shocking water. As a sleep coach, this fascinates me. Because what they’re doing is more than a weekend ritual. They are wil

When we watch the Olympic Games, we see power. Strength. Discipline. Focus. Mental toughness. What we don’t see is the thing that makes all of it possible: recovery. Olympic athletes don’t treat sleep like something that “just happens” at the end of the day. It’s scheduled, protected, respected, engineered. Their coaches plan for it. Their environment is optimized for it. Their performance depends on it. Sleep is not an afterthought. It’s part of the training. And here’s what

If you’re like most people I work with, you’ve probably said it at some point: "It doesn’t matter what time I go to bed. As long as I get 8 hours, I’m fine." On paper, it sounds smart. In reality? Biology laughs at that. Sleep isn’t just about hours. It’s about timing, consistency, and actually paying attention to what your body needs — yes, your body has opinions too. If you’ve ever wondered what happens when we stay in bed all day, every day (and trust me, it’s not all rain

Twice a week, no matter what, I go to Pilates. Before Yom Tov. Before a wedding. Sometimes even when I’m sick. My family already knows — unless something dramatic is happening… I’m going. We’re a small group, five or six women, same instructor, same room, same time. And honestly? It changed my life. More energy. Less aches. Better mood. Stronger body. If you asked me to choose between fancy food and my Pilates membership… bread and butter wins. Pilates stays. That’s how impor

Shaina’s journey to sleep wasn’t simple. She had searched across North America for solutions — from seeing fancy doctors in Manhattan to trying CBT-I programs in Toronto, to therapy sessions in Monsey, sometimes three times a week. She explored acupuncture, supplements, osteopathy — someone even suggested swimming seven days a week. At that point, why not! Yet, despite all this, what bothered Shaina the most was that she was glued to sleeping pills . Even though they weren’t

“These coaching sessions were so valuable and informative. I was so frustrated and had such resentment that my evenings weren’t mine anymore… and then I found you!!!” When this mom sent me that message, she laughed a little and said, half-joking, “My son is the one with the sleep challenge, and I’m the one doing all the work!” If you’re a parent, you probably know exactly what she means. The child has the sleep problem, but the parent ends up orchestrating the entire evening:

Meilich is eight years old. Creative. Artistic. Super smart. The kind of kid who makes his own comic books for fun. Not kidding — full storylines, characters, illustrations. The imagination of this child? Wild. The kind of brain teachers love. The kind of brain that… apparently… refuses to sleep. He’s also full of curiosity. He asks endless questions. He notices things adults miss. He gets lost in projects and ideas, completely absorbed in what he’s doing. Mom says he’s “bril

I just read an article in a magazine about sleep, and… wow. Apparently, if you’ve been tossing and turning for years, the solution is simple: stop eating in the evenings. Go to bed when you feel tired—not when the clock says 10 p.m. That’s it. Years of chronic insomnia? Gone. Poof. If only it were that easy. Because here’s what articles like that miss. They make insomnia sound like a bad habit. Like you just chose the wrong bedtime. Like you accidentally snacked at 8:30 p.m.

For the first time ever , a Women’s Sleep Symposium is happening — and I’m thrilled to be part of it! Ten incredible women from around the world will be speaking, plus one live insomnia survivor sharing her story. I know many of you have asked me: “How do I know if I have insomnia?” “Won’t it just disappear on its own?” “When should I seek help?” “I turned 50 — should I give up on my sleep?” “Why am I so tired, falling asleep on the couch, but the minute I get into bed, I’m w

Sunrise on Vacation Last week I woke up before the sun. No alarm. No snooze button negotiations. No “just five more minutes” that somehow turns into forty. Just… awake. I slipped out of bed quietly, pulled on a hoodie, and walked down to the beach. The sky was that soft purple-blue that only exists right before sunrise, when everything feels still and unhurried. The air was warm but light, palm trees barely moving, and a few early risers were already out walking with coffee c

(Why your body might need recovery more than escape) You don’t always need a vacation. Sometimes you just need your life to be quiet again. Not exciting. Not special. Just… quiet. Because sometimes the most exhausted version of you isn’t dreaming about a getaway. It’s dreaming about nothing at all. My friend sounded tired. Not “I stayed up too late” tired. Not “I need another coffee” tired. The heavy kind. She had just married off her son — a beautiful, emotional, high-energy

I hear it all the time. “I pulled an all-nighter.” “I barely slept.” “I don’t even remember the last time I slept properly.” And it’s said with pride. Almost like a badge of honor. Among women especially, exhaustion has somehow become proof of worth. And if I’m honest, there’s a sentence that flashes through my mind every time—one I never say out loud: I feel bad for you. This is no life. Not in a judgmental way. In a deeply human way. Because what I really want to ask is: Wh

Here’s a secret: I didn’t actually know I was blogging. A few years ago, I was exhausted. Burnout had me awake at night, heart racing, mind spinning. Some nights I’d lie there, staring at the ceiling, feeling like my brain just wouldn’t turn off. I’d think, “Why can’t I sleep like everyone else?” I knew I needed an outlet, so I started writing. Pouring my thoughts, frustrations, and tiny discoveries onto paper helped me untangle the chaos in my mind. At first, it wasn’t meant

They say the shoemaker’s kids go barefoot. I guess that makes me the sleep coach with torn shoes. Even though I help people wind down, unplug, and build better nights for a living… I wasn’t exactly following my own rules. Every single night, I’d place my phone neatly on my night table. Not turn it off. Not put it on airplane mode. Just… place it there. And I told myself a very convincing story about why. “It takes too long to turn back on in the morning.” For the last couple

Your life can look calm on the outside, while your brain is holding an emergency meeting at 12:39am. That’s what was happening to Jessy. Jessy is in her late 40s and lives in Boca. She had just done something incredibly brave. She left a job with a boss who was mean, controlling, and frankly… narcissistic. For years she had worked for other people, even though she was wildly talented and always dreamed of opening her own business. Now she finally did it. She had clarity, conn