Melatonin: The Messenger of Darkness

What your body does when it finally feels the day is done.

Melatonin doesn’t just show up when you're tired. It begins to rise when light begins to fade, responding not to your to-do list, but to the world outside your window.

It’s made in the pineal gland, a small structure nestled deep in the brain. For centuries, it functions remained a mystery and early anatomists thought it resembled a pinecone. And so it was named for one.

And it fits. Because like a pinecone, the pineal sits quietly at the centre. Closed in brightness. Opening in the dark. Waiting for the right conditions to release what the body needs to soften, settle, and begin to repair.

It doesn’t take much. Just less light. Less noise. And a signal that the day is done.

Nowadays, it's easy to think of melatonin as something you take in a pill. A little help at bedtime. A little sleepy signal.

But melatonin isn’t a sedative. It’s a rhythm keeper. A whisper from your body that says: It’s time to turn in. You’ve done enough for today.

And when it works properly, it doesn’t just help you fall asleep. It helps your cells rest. Your brain detox. Your mitochondria repair. Your nervous system release.

Melatonin is your body’s permission to soften.

But melatonin doesn’t start at night

It starts with light. And it starts in the morning.

Melatonin is made from serotonin, which itself is shaped by daylight, movement, protein, and gut health. And the entire process is governed by your circadian rhythm: the internal clock that manages sleep, mood, hormone release, immune cycles, and even digestion.

When you get bright light in the morning, your body says, “Okay, we’re awake". And it starts a slow countdown. About 14–16 hours later, melatonin should rise.

But if the body never gets that daylight cue, or gets too many artificial light cues at night, melatonin never gets the message.

What blocks melatonin?

It’s not just stress.

It’s the world we’ve built around ourselves. A world where days are stretched long past their natural close. Where blue light pulses in our hands late into the night. Where the sun rises and we barely register it, too busy chasing time to anchor in it.

Melatonin is made in the dark. But it begins in the light. And when our rhythms are scrambled, so is its signal.

If you skip morning daylight, your body never gets the memo that it’s daytime. So the countdown never starts. And when the sun finally sets, the system is confused, still too wired, still too bright, still too unfinished to let melatonin rise.

Evening screen time doesn’t just keep you mentally stimulated, it sends a clear physiological message: It’s still daytime. Keep going.

Late caffeine, erratic meals, stress eating, skipping meals altogether, these all influence blood sugar and cortisol, which in turn affect melatonin release.

If your body thinks you’re in crisis, it’s not going to suggest winding down.

And if your gut is inflamed or your serotonin is low (hello, stress, antibiotics, processed food, under-eating), melatonin’s building blocks are missing. It’s like trying to finish a song without the first note.

And then there’s that quiet undercurrent most people can’t name: The chronic feeling of I’m not done yet.

That sense that the day hasn’t been enough. That you haven’t been enough. And so you keep going. You scroll. You tidy. You answer one more thing. You stay lit. And melatonin waits in the wings, uninvited.

And when melatonin doesn’t rise?

You don’t just lose sleep. You lose restoration.

Your brain doesn’t clear metabolic waste. Your immune system doesn’t resolve inflammation. Your hormones don’t recalibrate. Your mitochondria don’t repair.

Because melatonin is not just about sleep. It’s about cellular rhythm. It tells the body: you can stop now. It’s safe to rest.

And without that message, your system stays in limbo. Not fully awake. Not fully asleep. Just dragging through the hours, fuzzy, fatigued, and a little more frayed each day.

Low melatonin doesn’t always look like insomnia

It’s subtler. Slipperier.

It looks like falling asleep easily, but waking at 2am for no reason, your mind already buzzing. It looks like being tired all day, then suddenly wide awake at 10pm. It looks like technically sleeping, but waking feeling like you ran a marathon in your dreams.

It shows up in the way noise feels sharper. The way lights irritate you. The way you can’t remember the last time you felt done.

You might start forgetting where you are in the month. Or feeling disconnected from the seasons. Or noticing that your usual spark is dimmer, that the fog comes faster and lingers longer.

You’re not broken. You’re out of rhythm. And for many, this happens slowly over time. Especially in midlife. Especially under stress.

Melatonin drops. And with it, we lose the quiet signal that tells us the day is over. That we can step out of doing. That we are allowed to rest, not just as sleep, but as closure.

Because melatonin isn’t about knocking you out. It’s about bringing the whole system to a close. To say: We’re safe now. You can stop holding everything.We’ll begin again tomorrow.

Melatonin-Supportive Food & Rhythm Table

A gentle shift toward rest, repair, and real sleep.

What to Support	How to Support It	Why It Matters
Serotonin precursor	Tryptophan-rich foods: turkey, chicken, oats, pumpkin seeds	Tryptophan → serotonin → melatonin
B6 + co-factors	Chickpeas, tuna, eggs, leafy greens, bananas	Needed for serotonin + melatonin production
Evening nervous system calm	Warm, starchy dinners, glycine-rich broth, chamomile tea	Helps shift into parasympathetic mode and allow melatonin to rise
Gut health	Polyphenols, fermented foods (if tolerated), fibre	90%+ of serotonin is made in the gut
Darkness + rhythm	Dim lights after sunset, no screens before bed, consistent wind-down routine	Reduces blue light, supports circadian signal for melatonin
Daylight exposure	Get outside in the morning, ideally within 30–60 minutes of waking	Anchors circadian rhythm, sets internal “sleep clock”

The bottom line

Melatonin is a hormone, yes. But it’s also a kind of wisdom.

A cellular understanding that you’ve done enough for today. That it’s okay to slow down. That the body can shift from doing to being.

This isn’t about perfect sleep hygiene. It’s about remembering rhythm. Morning light. Evening darkness. Warm meals that settle. A breath that says not everything has to be finished tonight.

Support the signal, and your body remembers what it’s been trying to do all along.

Not just sleep. But release.

Want to see where the science comes from? For the extra curious, the references are here.