HOW MOLLY BEAT HER TRAVEL INSOMNIA AND FINALLY ENJOYED A VACATION

Why learning to handle sleepless nights matters more than chasing perfect sleep.

MOLLY’S WIN: FROM SLEEPLESS VACATIONS TO SLEEPING ANYWHERE

Some wins in my work as a sleep coach stand out, not because they’re perfect or pretty, but because they’re real. Molly’s story is one of those. It’s the kind of story that reminds me that sleep struggles aren’t always about falling asleep in your own bed at home. Sometimes they’re tied to a very specific situation—and for Molly, that situation was traveling.

When Molly first reached out to me last summer, she told me, “I can sleep fine at home, but the minute I’m in a hotel or staying somewhere else, I’m wide awake. It doesn’t matter how tired I am—I’ll lie there all night. Every vacation has turned into a nightmare, and honestly, I’d rather not travel anymore.”

She wasn’t exaggerating. Every trip meant anxiety, panic, and nights staring at the ceiling while her mind raced. It didn’t matter how beautiful the location was or how exhausted she felt—her body simply refused to settle when she was away from home.

We started working together for three months, and a lot of our work centered on something most people don’t realize about insomnia: the more you try to fix, manage, or control your sleep, the harder it is to actually sleep. Sleep isn’t something you can force. The moment it feels like a performance—like something you have to “do right”—it slips away.

One of the first things I helped Molly understand was that sleep itself isn’t the problem. It’s the pressure around sleep, the mental battle, that keeps it away. We worked on letting go of that desperate need to sleep, the need to “make it happen.” When we stop chasing sleep, it stops feeling threatened. When we stop turning it into a “big deal,” it naturally returns.

But that’s easier said than done, so we also worked with her subconscious mind. What thoughts, fears, and emotions was she holding onto every time she traveled? What were her expectations for herself when she was away? And more importantly, what did she actually want to feel and experience when traveling? Most of us are crystal clear on what we don’t want (“I don’t want to be awake all night”), but we rarely take the time to define what we do want (“I want to feel calm, connected, rested, and able to enjoy my day even if I don’t sleep perfectly”).

Molly made slow, steady progress. She built a toolbox of strategies—not to force sleep, but to help her body and mind return to a state where sleep could happen naturally. She also began to shift one of her biggest fears: the fear of the next day. For years, she’d told herself, “If I don’t sleep, I’ll be a disaster tomorrow. I’ll collapse. I won’t be able to enjoy anything.” That belief had been fueling so much pressure. By learning to manage her mindset about the next day, she stopped putting sleep on a pedestal and stopped building her life around whether or not she slept.

Then came the real test: last week, Molly and her husband went on a long-awaited trip to the Grand Canyon.

The first night, everything she had practiced was put to the test. Standing in the shower, she suddenly felt that old wave of fear wash over her. The next day was going to be a big one—hours of hiking, exploring, and taking in the sights. Her mind immediately jumped into panic mode: What if I don’t sleep? How will I manage? What if I’m exhausted all day and can’t enjoy any of it?

The fear kept growing. She poured herself a shot of whiskey from the minibar, hoping it would calm her down. Then she took a melatonin. Still, as she got into bed, she was wide awake, gripped by paralyzing fear, despite having been awake for nearly 20 hours after a full day of travel with a connecting flight. Exhaustion wasn’t enough to override her panic. Finally, she gave in and took one of the sleeping pills she had packed “just in case.”

She told me later, “I knew I was blowing it out of proportion as I was doing it. I knew I’d feel awful the next day. But in that moment, I just couldn’t get past the fear.”

And yes, she did feel awful the next morning—but here’s the part that mattered: she still had a fantastic day exploring the Grand Canyon. She didn’t collapse. Her worst fears didn’t come true. And more importantly, the next night looked completely different.

That second night, Molly didn’t spiral. She stepped out onto her hotel balcony, took a few deep breaths, and reminded herself of everything she had practiced. She listened to one of the recordings we had made together during our coaching sessions, and she let herself accept the possibility of another sleepless night. She stopped trying to “make” sleep happen and was genuinely okay with the idea that even if she didn’t sleep, she’d still be okay. And, as it usually does when we stop fighting it, sleep came naturally.

For Molly, the win wasn’t a flawless night of sleep on the first try. It was realizing that she had the tools to handle her fear, calm her mind, and move forward without letting insomnia control her trip—or her life. She learned that even when things don’t go perfectly, she can still enjoy her day and trust her body to do what it knows how to do.

If you’ve ever struggled with insomnia while traveling or can’t sleep on vacation, you’re not alone. The key isn’t to “force” yourself to sleep. It’s to understand how sleep works, how your mind can work for or against you, and how to release the pressure that keeps you awake.

Want more tips on handling sleep while traveling? Read about Pearl’s journey of flying without sleeping pills and handling jet lag naturally.

And if you’re tired of dreading vacations because of sleepless nights, I’d be happy to talk. You can book a free 30‑minute consultation right here.

Have you ever had a trip nearly ruined by sleepless nights? What’s your biggest challenge when it comes to sleeping away from home?