I Backed This Mask on Kickstarter a Decade Ago. It Just Knocked My Six-Year-Old Out Over the Atlantic.

A few days ago, my son and I flew to London. He’s six, window seat, running a nonstop interrogation about clouds and turbulence — until just after 9pm, somewhere over the Atlantic, when he pulled on his sleep mask and leaned into my shoulder. He was out in minutes.

His mask is a kid-sized version of the one I’ve worn for years. Watching him disappear into it mid-flight was one of those parenting wins you don’t photograph but don’t forget. Then it was my turn: a movie, a meal, an actual break.

Why travel is where sleep falls apart

We obsess over food, movement, hydration when we travel — and let sleep go first. Red-eyes. Hotel curtains that won’t close. Unfamiliar noise. A body clock five hours out of step, undefended.

I call it travel hygiene — not hand sanitizer, but protecting the basics: light and sound, so your nervous system can settle somewhere new.

Two things carry most of that weight now.

A decade-old habit, now sponsored

Years ago I backed a Kickstarter for a mask with actual eye cups — no pressure, total blackout. That company was Manta Sleep. I’ve worn their masks since, once built a Frankenstein version from two different masks (that’s how particular I am about sleep, and possibly other things), and last month asked them, unprompted, to work with the newsletter. They said yes.

This issue is sponsored. But the money moved the other way first, a decade ago — everything here I’d tell you anyway.

The mask blacks out every bit of light without pressing on your eyes. You can blink, relax, forget you’re wearing it. On a plane, that’s resting your eyes versus actual sleep. I use the pro model.

The earplugs are new — Manta only made the mask when I first backed them; they’ve since built out a full range. Paired with the mask this trip, the combination borders on absurd. The cabin disappears. Just dark and quiet, at 38,000 feet.

And for the smallest traveler

Manta makes a kids’ mask now — the real discovery of this trip. My boy had his for a few weeks, and on the flight it did something no amount of “close your eyes, darling” ever has. If you travel with a child, or just have one convinced sleep is optional, it’s worth a look.

It’s not just for planes

The unglamorous truth: my mask lives on the headboard, within arm’s reach. When the sun comes up earlier than I’d like, I reach for it half-asleep, pull it on, and steal back another hour of real darkness. No decision, no discipline — just a small ritual that runs on its own.

That’s the wellness I trust: not the overhaul, but the small thing you reach for without thinking, because it works.

Wherever this finds you — home, away, or somewhere over an ocean — I hope you're sleeping well. If you're not, start with the dark.

P.S. — The rest of my sleep kit, for the curious: a cool room (18°C, non-negotiable), an essential oil diffuser, and — a recent experiment — magnetic nose strips, which are new enough that I'll report back. I also use mouth tape, though that one's strictly a this-works-for-me mention, not a suggestion — it isn't right for everyone, so do your own homework (and check with a doctor if you're unsure) before trying it. None of this is complicated. Most of it is just darkness, quiet, and cool air, defended consistently.

---

Further Reading: