Dr Charlotte Russell, Clinical Psychologist and Founder

Many of us start planning a trip with the best of intentions: we want to make the most of our time off, avoid stress, and squeeze in as many meaningful experiences as possible. But somewhere along the way, planning can tip into overplanning; leaving us with colour‑coded itineraries, tightly packed schedules, and very little room to breathe. Instead of feeling excited, we end up feeling pressured to “do it all,” as if travel is another project to manage rather than something to enjoy.

As psychologists who travel, we see this pattern often. Overplanning is often about our emotional needs: A desire for control. A fear of missing out. The pressure to make limited annual leave “count.” And while planning can be helpful, too much of it can quietly undermine the very things we’re seeking from our trip: rest, curiosity, connection, and a sense of being truly present.

This article explores why so many of us fall into the trap of overplanning and how to gently step back from it.

What leads to overplanning?

Fear of Missing Out (FOMO)

FOMO is one of the biggest drivers of overplanning, especially for travellers who want to make the most of limited time off. When you’re researching a destination, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of “must‑see” lists, perfect itineraries, and social media highlights. Every recommendation can start to feel essential, and the fear of choosing the “wrong” thing can push you into packing your schedule far more tightly than you intended.

Psychologically, FOMO is rooted in a sense of scarcity — the belief that opportunities are limited and that missing one experience means losing something important. In travel, this can show up as pressure to see every landmark, try every restaurant, or recreate the trips you’ve seen online. Instead of tuning into what you need from your time away, you end up trying to meet an imagined standard of what a “successful” trip should look like.

The problem is that FOMO‑driven planning often leads to the opposite of what you’re hoping for. When every moment is accounted for, there’s little space for rest, curiosity, or the kind of spontaneous experiences that make travel feel alive. You’re so focused on not missing out that you miss the chance to be present.

Recognising FOMO can be the first step in loosening its grip. When you notice that familiar pressure rising, it’s worth pausing to ask: Is this something I genuinely want, or something I feel I should want? That small moment of reflection can help you plan a trip that feels meaningful, not overwhelming.

Fear of disappointment

Another common driver of overplanning is the fear that an experience will be anything less than brilliant. For perfectionistic travellers, a meal that’s “just okay” or an excursion that doesn’t quite land can feel like evidence that they should have planned harder, researched more, or chosen differently. Instead of accepting that not every moment of a trip can be extraordinary, they interpret ordinary experiences as mistakes — something to be prevented next time through even more planning.

But this mindset creates a quiet, relentless pressure. When every choice has to be the best choice, travel becomes a performance rather than a lived experience. You’re no longer responding to what you genuinely want in the moment; you’re trying to avoid the discomfort of disappointment. And ironically, the more you chase “perfect,” the harder it becomes to feel present, relaxed, or open to the unexpected.

Psychologically, it’s far more adaptive to recognise that even on our well‑earned holidays, not everything needs to be monumental. Humans aren’t designed to move from peak experience to peak experience. We need pauses, gentle moments, and space to simply be. Those quieter intervals; the unremarkable coffee, the slow walk back to the hotel, the afternoon with nothing planned, are often what allow the bigger moments to feel meaningful.

When you let go of the expectation that every part of your trip must be exceptional, you create room for authenticity, rest, and genuine connection with the place you’re in. And paradoxically, that’s often when the most memorable experiences emerge.

When overplanning is really an overactive drive system

In Compassion Focused Therapy, our emotional life is often described through three systems: the drive system (which pushes us to achieve, pursue, and do), the threat system (which keeps us safe), and the soothing system (which helps us rest, settle, and feel grounded). Overplanning often looks like a purely practical behaviour, but for many people it’s actually the drive system working overtime.

The drive system isn’t “bad”. It’s the part of us that gets things done, fuels excitement, and helps us move towards goals. But when it becomes the main way we regulate emotion, it can start to dominate. Instead of noticing anxiety, uncertainty, or anticipation around a trip, we slip into doing mode: researching more, refining itineraries, adding extra tabs, checking reviews again. The activity gives a temporary sense of control and relief, so the brain learns to repeat it.

Over time, this can create a loop:

  • Uncertainty or discomfort arises — excitement mixed with anxiety, fear of missing out, or a sense of “I need to get this right”.
  • The drive system switches on — planning becomes the strategy for managing those feelings.
  • Short-term relief reinforces the behaviour — the more we plan, the more it feels like we’re coping.
  • But the soothing system stays underused — we don’t get the chance to practise settling, trusting, or tolerating the unknown.

This is why overplanning rarely leads to feeling more prepared. It leads to feeling responsible for controlling every variable. And because travel is inherently unpredictable, the drive system never really gets to “complete the task”. There’s always more to check, more to optimise, more to perfect.

Understanding this pattern is not about blaming ourselves. It’s about recognising that overplanning is often a form of emotional self‑protection. When we see it through that lens, we can begin to shift from “I’m doing this wrong” to “Oh, this is my drive system trying to help me cope”.

From there, the work becomes less about cutting back on planning and more about gently strengthening the soothing system — the part of us that can tolerate uncertainty, rest in the present, and trust that a trip doesn’t need to be perfectly engineered to be meaningful.

Tips for reducing planning

1. See the value in downtime and spontaneity 

One of the most powerful ways to stop overplanning is to recognise that downtime isn’t wasted time — it’s essential. Many travellers feel guilty if they’re not “making the most” of every moment, especially when annual leave is limited. But psychologically, rest and unstructured time are what allow us to process new experiences, regulate our emotions, and actually enjoy the trip we’ve worked so hard for.

When every hour is accounted for, there’s no space for curiosity, intuition, or the small, unexpected moments that often become the highlights of a journey. Spontaneity isn’t the opposite of planning; it’s what gives your plans room to breathe. It’s the café you stumble upon because you took a different route, the conversation with a local you wouldn’t have met if you were rushing to your next booking, the quiet hour by the pool that ends up being the moment you finally exhale.

Downtime also protects you from the emotional fatigue that comes with trying to engineer a “perfect” trip. When you allow yourself to pause — to sit, to wander, to simply be — you create the conditions for genuine restoration. And when you stop expecting every experience to be extraordinary, you free yourself to notice the ordinary moments that make travel feel human and grounding.

Building in space isn’t a sign of poor planning; it’s a sign of psychological flexibility. It’s an acknowledgement that you don’t need to control every outcome to have a meaningful trip. In fact, it’s often the unplanned moments that stay with you long after you return home.

2. Gradually reduce the amount of planning

If you’re used to planning every detail of your trip, shifting towards spontaneity can feel uncomfortable at first. The goal isn’t to abandon structure altogether — it’s to gently widen the space between planning and experience so you can respond more freely to what you actually feel like doing. Small, intentional experiments can help you build confidence and reduce the urge to control every moment.

You might try:

  • choosing a restaurant without checking reviews
  • leaving an afternoon completely unplanned and tuning into what you feel like doing in the moment
  • asking your travel companion to choose the activity and making it your mission to enjoy it, even if it’s not something you’d usually pick
  • asking a local for a recommendation and following it without researching or comparing options
  • leaving pockets of time in your itinerary specifically for spontaneity
  • ordering something from a menu you wouldn’t normally try

These small acts of flexibility help you practise tolerating uncertainty in a way that feels safe and manageable. Over time, they build a sense of trust — trust in yourself, trust in the moment, and trust that a trip doesn’t need to be optimised to be meaningful.

One of the biggest barriers to spontaneity is the fear of not enjoying yourself or not making the “best” use of your time. These fears can quickly pull you back into doing mode — researching, comparing, planning, refining. When you notice that happening, it can help to gently remind yourself: I’m here to be carefree and to enjoy, not to optimise.

From there, bring your attention back to the present moment. Notice the sights, sounds, textures, and rhythms around you. This simple shift helps you reconnect with being rather than doing.

3. Practise engaging your soothing system

If you recognise that your planning spirals are driven by a sense of urgency or the need to “get everything right”, it can help to consciously activate your soothing system; the part of you that settles, softens, and feels safe enough to stop striving.

You might start by asking yourself a simple question: What helps me feel calm and grounded? For some people it’s a slow morning coffee, a walk, a few deep breaths, or a moment of stillness before opening another tab. For others it’s a gentle reminder that they don’t have to earn rest or justify ease.

On your trip, this might look like:

  • Taking a compassionate stance towards yourself when uncertainty shows up — “Of course I’m feeling this; travel is full of unknowns.”
  • Building in small rituals that help you settle rather than strive.
  • Allowing pockets of unstructured time and noticing what it feels like not to fill them.
  • Treating yourself as someone worth looking after, not someone who must perform the perfect trip.

The aim isn’t to suppress the drive system,  it’s to give the soothing system a chance to come online so planning isn’t your only way of coping. When you approach your trip from a place of care rather than pressure, you create more space for presence, spontaneity, and genuine enjoyment.

Bringing it all together

Overplanning rarely begins with the intention to control everything. Most of us start with good motives: wanting to make the most of precious time off, hoping to avoid stress, or trying to create a trip that feels meaningful. But as the research piles up and the tabs multiply, planning can shift from something supportive to something that quietly drains the joy out of travel.

When we look beneath the surface, overplanning often reflects our emotional landscape more than our logistical needs. FOMO can make every recommendation feel essential. Perfectionism can turn ordinary moments into “mistakes” to be prevented. And for many people, an overactive drive system means that doing becomes the default way to manage uncertainty. Planning feels productive, soothing, and protective — until it doesn’t.

Understanding these patterns is not about self‑criticism. It’s about recognising that overplanning is often a form of care that has simply tipped out of balance. When we see it through this lens, we can begin to shift from striving to supporting ourselves differently.

The small steps matter. Making space for downtime helps you reconnect with what you actually need, rather than what you think you should be doing. Gradually reducing the amount of planning helps you practise tolerating uncertainty in manageable ways. And engaging your soothing system, through rituals, compassion, and moments of grounding, gives you another way to regulate emotion that doesn’t rely on doing more.

Ultimately, the aim isn’t to abandon planning or force yourself into spontaneity. It’s to create a trip that feels spacious enough for presence, curiosity, and rest. When you approach travel with a little more softness and a little less pressure, you make room for the kind of experiences that can’t be scheduled: the unexpected conversations, the quiet pauses, the moments that stay with you.

Travel doesn’t need to be optimised to be meaningful. It needs space,  and so do you.