The First Night I Slept Alone in 13 Months

For the first time since becoming a mom, I traveled alone and remembered what it felt like to just be with myself.

Last weekend I went on a press trip to Palm Springs, California. It was my first time traveling alone since I had my son 13 months ago. And while I’ll be sharing more about the design, art, and magic of that trip in a future post, today I want to talk about something else entirely.

This was the first time I’ve slept alone in over a year. Not just without my son in the bed, but without him in the house, the next room, or even the same city.

We co-sleep in our home. I know some people have opinions about that, but for us, it works. It has felt like the right move in this season of early motherhood, even if it means I often end up with just a sliver of the bed. For 13 months, I’ve gone to sleep next to my son every night. And I’ve woken up next to him every morning.

So when I left for Palm Springs—a four-day trip from Friday to Monday—I told myself I’d finally get real sleep. I packed my journal, a book I’d been meaning to finish (The Chiffon Trenches: A Memoir by André Leon Talley), and imagined long, uninterrupted rest.

But that’s not exactly what happened.

The sleep wasn’t magical. I still woke up in the middle of the night. I still FaceTimed my husband and Noka multiple times a day. I missed them, of course. But I also felt something I hadn’t in a while: space. Space to get dressed slowly. Space to linger over coffee. Space to stretch without anyone asking me for anything. It wasn’t a dramatic transformation, but it was pretty validating.

One morning, I sat alone at Livs, a cafe located inside the Palm Springs Art Museum, and I didn’t have to rush. I spent almost an hour doing my hair and makeup without interruption. I wandered into thrift shops, lingered for four hours at the museum, and laid on the couch catching up on emails. It felt like the old times, before becoming a mom.

This trip didn’t change me, but it did remind me that rest doesn’t have to be earned. It can simply be taken.

There was also a very real moment of fear. On Saturday, a 25-year-old man in Palm Springs bombed himself just half a mile away from my hotel. Roads were blocked off. I drove around for over 30 minutes trying to get back. It was frightening because, at the time, I didn’t know all the details of what was going on. I’m so grateful to be safe and am holding the young man’s family and the four people injured in my thoughts. It was a sobering reminder of how unpredictable life is. I just kept thinking about how badly I needed and wanted to make it back home to my family safe.

I know this isn’t something moms are often encouraged to say out loud, but: you’re not meant to be with your family 24/7.

You deserve time alone. Time to take care of no one but yourself. Time to read a book in silence, to eat without wiping someone else’s hands, to stretch out in a bed and not be nudged awake by tiny feet at 2 a.m.

There was no guilt in me taking this trip.

If you’re a new mom or just someone who’s forgotten what it's like to take up space on your own, I want you to know that it’s okay to need a break. It’s okay to crave solitude. It’s okay to say, “I love my family, but I need time to be with me.”

And when you do get that time, I hope you take it slowly without apology.

I’ll be sharing more about Palm Springs—where I stayed, what I saw, and everything I loved, over the next week. And if you’re curious about what press trips are or how editorial writers get involved with them, I’m happy to write about that too. Just let me know.

Until then, take care of yourself—like, really take care of yourself. You don’t need a whole trip to remember you’re a person, but if you do get one, I hope it reminds you that you matter too.