I love Airbnb.
I hate Airbnb.
So which is it?
The truth is, it’s both.
I love Airbnb because I am not a wealthy person, and it has helped me pay my mortgage and stay in my home. Long before Airbnb existed, I was already hosting. People would come to Sedona for weeklong workshops—Sedona Method, massage, aromatherapy, myofascial work—and they were usually great guests. They were curious, engaged, and spent most of their time out learning and making like-minded friends. They brought a kind of energy that felt aligned with why people come here in the first place.
Long-term roommates, on the other hand, have not worked well for me. One experience in particular—coming home to find all my belongings on the porch with nowhere to go, along with my two-year-old—was enough to make me rethink that path entirely. I need peace. I need stability. Short-term guests, who are generally happy and then leave, have been a much better fit.
In recent years, I converted a workshop space off my garage into a small, private Airbnb. It’s been even better—no shared walls, no noise issues, and complete flexibility. I don’t mind when guests come and go, and I genuinely enjoy hosting. There’s something special about helping visitors with wide eyes and a touch of “red rock fever” experience Sedona for the first time.
But… and it’s a big “but.”
There are now three whole house Airbnbs on my street. One is quiet and causes no issues. Another, just two doors down, is a large home that frequently hosts big groups. It’s not uncommon to hear loud music, yelling, and profanity late into the night. At times, the cul-de-sac turns into a makeshift sports field. On more than one occasion, large gatherings have filled the street with cars, squeezing into every possible space.
Beyond my immediate street, I can hear activity from several other short-term rentals in nearby roads—late-night parties, barking dogs, music blaring. I close all my windows and try to wait it out.. It feels like our quiet street has been lost.
And then there’s the change in neighborhood vibe. Sedona has always been a place where most neighbors at least exchange a wave. Lately, I’m seeing more blank expressions instead and some impatience for me to just move my car.Not every neighbor was ever friendly—that’s true—but something feels different now, and at times, a little unsettling.
That said, there is a strange upside: if it’s loud, it’s usually temporary. At high nightly rates, most stays are short-lived. The disruption comes in waves, not permanence.
I’ll admit, navigating the city’s permitting process felt like a hassle at the time. But now that I’m through it, I’m glad I did it properly. In a recent conversation with Bearcloud in Oak Creek Canyon, I got a glimpse of what happens in places without HOA oversight or meaningful regulation—entire neighborhoods turning into revolving-door rental zones with very few permenant residents left.
So where does that leave us?
Somewhere in the middle.
I don’t want to eliminate Airbnb. I rely on it. I know it is a valuable tool for homeowners and a meaningful way for visitors to experience Sedona. But letting it run unchecked isn’t healthy for neighborhoods or quality of life.
Balance is the word that keeps coming up. The challenge is figuring out what that balance actually looks like—and how we get there.
Right now, I don’t have the answer. But I do know this: the question is worth asking.