You know that feeling when you reach for your phone before your eyes are fully open? When you've checked Instagram three times in the last ten minutes without even realizing it? You're not alone. And increasingly, people are paying good money to make it stop.

The Burnout That Launched a Thousand Cabins

Rosanna Irwin had what many would consider a dream job at Facebook. She worked with global teams, stayed constantly connected, and climbed the corporate ladder. Then it all fell apart. "I was working all hours with global teams," she recalls. "Ultimately being online all the time like this really broke me."

Her cure came unexpectedly during three days on the Danish island of Samsø, completely cut off from the internet. She returned home "feeling cured," quit her job, and spent eight months building Samsú—a digital detox retreat in rural Ireland. She opened two cabins in 2024. Three more launch this summer.

Hector Hughes followed a similar path. In 2019, he hit his breaking point and fled to a Buddhist temple in the Himalayas. Ten days without his phone changed everything. He came home, quit his job, and co-founded Unplugged, which now operates 40 tech-free cabins across the UK and Spain. They expect to reach 60 by year's end.

These aren't isolated stories. They're the origin myths of an entire industry.

The Numbers Behind the Unplug Movement

The data tells a clear story. Time spent on social media peaked in 2022 and has since dropped nearly 10%. We're still scrolling for two hours and 20 minutes daily in developed markets, but the trend line is finally bending downward.

Meanwhile, 27% of adults planning to travel in 2025 want to reduce their social media use during holidays, according to the Hilton Trends Report. Plum Guide saw a 17% jump in searches for unplugged, tech-lite properties last year.

The wellness industry—now worth $2 trillion globally—is absorbing this shift. Gen Z and millennials drive 41% of annual wellness spending in the US, despite making up just 36% of adults. Nearly 30% of younger generations say they're prioritizing wellness "a lot more" than a year ago, compared to 23% of older folks.

Here's the kicker: 62% of polled adults say they hate how much time they spend on their phones. And 34% have checked Facebook in the last ten minutes. We know we have a problem. Now we're willing to pay to fix it.

What Actually Happens When You Unplug

The first 24 hours are rough. Research from the University of Greenwich and University of East Anglia found that guests "go stir crazy" initially. A 2019 study on digital-free tourism documented anxiety and frustration in the early stages.

But something shifts around the 48-hour mark. People adjust. They engage with their surroundings. The anxiety transforms into acceptance, then enjoyment, then something researchers call "liberation."

Scientific studies suggest three days is enough time for the brain to rewire. That's the sweet spot many retreats aim for.

Ophelia Wu experienced this firsthand at Eremito, a former monastery in Umbria, Italy. No wi-fi. No phone signal. No tech or TVs. Just brick walls, basic bedrooms, and candlelight. "When I left, I was reluctant to turn my phone back on," she said. "I got used to the peace of being unbothered and the lack of urgency."

The Spectrum of Digital Detox

Not everyone wants monastic silence. The market has diversified to match different comfort levels.

At the hardcore end sits Eremito, where technology simply doesn't exist. Grand Velas Resorts in Mexico takes a more structured approach with a "Detox Concierge" who confiscates your devices on arrival. You get them back when you leave.

Unplugged and Samsú occupy a middle ground. Their cabins sit within 90 minutes of major cities—close enough for a weekend escape, far enough to feel remote. The UK now has 34 digital detox stays listed on Cool Places, from Cornish eco-yurts to Lake District boathouses. The list keeps growing.

The Offline Club runs two-day and five-day retreats in the Netherlands and France, plus offline events in over a dozen European cities. These aren't wilderness expeditions. They're structured programs that teach people how to disconnect in a world that demands constant connection.

Why Now?

Several forces are converging. Instagram chief Adam Mosseri recently stated that messaging has become the primary way people share on the platform. Public posting is fading. We're retreating into group chats, DMs, and close friends lists.

The flood of AI-generated content—what people are calling "AI slop"—makes it harder to know what's real online. When you can't trust what you're seeing, the appeal of face-to-face interaction grows stronger.

The Global Wellness Summit coined a term for this shift: "analog-ing on." It describes a move toward retro tech, tactile hobbies, and pre-digital experiences as a form of wellness. Run clubs, walking groups, book clubs, and "no phones" events are all experiencing a resurgence.

Some are calling 2026 "The Year of Analogue and Offline." BBC Travel lists offline travel as one of the top trends for 2025. The momentum is building.

The Paradox at the Heart of It All

Here's what's interesting: most people discovering these retreats find them online. They book through websites. They share their experiences on Instagram after they return. The average person still spends a full day each week online.

Digital detox isn't about abandoning technology. It's about resetting our relationship with it. The founders of these retreats aren't Luddites—Irwin worked at Facebook, after all. They're people who got too close to the fire and needed to step back.

The retreats provide permission and structure for something we struggle to do alone. We know we should put the phone down. We just can't seem to do it without help.

What Comes Next

The $500 billion US wellness market grows at 4-5% annually. As digital detox moves from fringe to mainstream, expect more variety. Weekend escapes for beginners. Month-long programs for the committed. Family-friendly options for parents who want to model different behavior for their kids.

The real question isn't whether this trend will continue. It's whether temporary retreats can create lasting change, or if we'll just return to our old habits the moment we get home.

Early evidence suggests something is shifting. That 10% drop in social media use since 2022 didn't happen by accident. The 68% of young adults adopting strategies to manage their online time aren't just talking about it—they're acting.

Maybe we don't all need to flee to a monastery in Umbria. But the fact that such places are thriving tells us something important about where we are and where we want to go. Sometimes you need to completely unplug to remember what it feels like to be fully present. And sometimes, that memory is enough to change how you live when you plug back in.