How to stop scrolling before bed: a 10-minute habit to reclaim sleep

I used to be the person who “just checked” my phone for five minutes before bed and then found myself scrolling for an hour, heart racing, mind full of other people’s news. The result was predictable: late sleep, shallow rest, and mornings that felt heavy before they'd even begun. Over time I learned that the problem wasn’t screens per se but the tiny habits that slide into place when we don’t plan our evenings. I developed a simple 10-minute habit that helped me reclaim the transition to sleep — gentle, doable, and built around curiosity rather than willpower. Here’s how it looks (and why it works).

Why quitting bedtime scrolling matters

Before we jump into the habit, a quick reminder of why this matters. Even low-effort scrolling can:

Stimulate your brain: New information, notifications and quick dopamine hits make it harder to shift into a calm state.

Delay melatonin: Blue light from screens can suppress melatonin, the hormone that helps you fall asleep.

Increase rumination: Social media and news often trigger thoughts or worries that keep your mind active.

None of this means you must give up screens forever. It simply means the minutes before bed are precious for signalling to your body and mind that it’s time to rest.

The 10-minute habit: a gentle wind-down routine

This is a portable 10-minute routine you can do in bed or beside it. I designed it to replace the “one more scroll” loop with a short sequence that shifts your nervous system toward relaxation. You don’t need special equipment — just a phone on do-not-disturb and a tiny bit of curiosity.

Minute 0–1: Pause and put the phone away. Turn on do-not-disturb, flip the phone face down, or place it in another room. The physical act of setting the phone aside is symbolic: you’re creating a boundary between your waking life and sleep. If you prefer, place your phone on airplane mode and plug it in to charge away from your bed.

Minute 1–3: Belly breathing. Lie or sit comfortably and place one hand on your abdomen. Breathe in for 4 counts, hold for 1, exhale for 6. Repeat three times. Slowing the exhale signals the parasympathetic system — your body’s rest response.

Minute 3–5: Gentle body scan. Slowly move your attention from your toes to your head, noticing sensations without judgment. If you find tension, imagine it softening on the exhale. This isn’t a strict meditation; it’s a way to anchor your attention in your body rather than in the endless feed.

Minute 5–7: Gratitude or small wins. In a low voice or in your head, name two things that felt nourishing today. These can be tiny: a warm cup of tea, a kind message, a moment of laughter. Ending the day on small positives nudges your brain toward safety and contentment, which helps sleep arrive more easily.

Minute 7–10: A micro-plan for morning and a prompt to rest. Give yourself one tiny intention for tomorrow (e.g., “I'll have breakfast before checking email”) and one gentle instruction for now (e.g., “I will rest”). Finish with three slow breaths and a soft exhale. This last micro-plan reduces the “what if I forget?” loop we often feed into our phones.

Practical tweaks that make it stick

Here are small adjustments that helped me actually keep the habit:

Start with one night: If the full 10 minutes feels like too much, try 3–5 minutes for a week. Small consistency beats ambitious starts.

Make the phone less tempting: Use a physical alarm clock or a charging bowl away from the bed. I like simple wooden bowls from shops like IKEA or Not On The High Street — they create a clear landing place for the phone.

Keep a bedside notebook: If your mind races with things to remember, jot one line in a notebook. This externalises the memory and reduces the urge to scroll.

Use a sleep-friendly app if helpful: If you enjoy guided practices, apps like Insight Timer or simple guided sleep tracks from Calm can replace scrolling. Avoid feeds; choose single-track content and set a 10-minute timer.

Be kind to yourself: If you slip back into scrolling, notice the judgment and let it pass. Habits shift slowly. I still have nights where I backslide — it doesn’t erase progress.

How to handle resistance and tricky nights

Resistance often shows up as: “I deserve downtime” or “I’ll just check for five minutes.” I reframed that by asking: what feels most restful right now? The answer isn’t always quiet; sometimes watching a short, calming show or reading a paperback is genuinely restful. The key is intention. Ask yourself:

Do I feel more relaxed or more alert after this?

Will I feel better tomorrow morning if I do this now?

If the answer points away from scrolling, choose the 10-minute routine instead.

Evidence meets compassion

Scientific research supports many elements of this habit: slower breathing reduces physiological arousal, gratitude practices lift mood, and limiting evening screen use can improve sleep quality. But science doesn’t capture the whole story — habit change works best when it’s compassionate and practical. I prefer to offer options you can actually return to, not a list of perfect rules.

Real-life examples

One reader told me she replaced scrolling with a 10-minute audio of comforting poetry. Another swapped doomscrolling for a nightly sketchbook moment; she said the creative focus wound her down faster than any app. For a short while I kept lavender sachets beside the bed — not because lavender is magical, but because the scent paired with the routine created a calming cue.

When to ask for more help

This habit helps most people with mild-to-moderate sleep disruptions. If your sleep problems feel severe, persistent, or are accompanied by anxiety or depression, please seek professional support. A GP, sleep clinic, or therapist can offer tailored care. My suggestions are gentle complements, not replacements, for clinical guidance.

If you try this 10-minute routine, I’d love to hear what shifts for you. Small rituals add up: tonight’s five or ten quiet minutes can ripple into clearer mornings, kinder moods, and a steadier sense of rest. Try one thing differently and notice — that’s where change begins.