The Beauty Of Not Sleeping Together

Editor’s Note: This week’s relationship-themed column comes from Rachel Kramer Bussel at Refinery 29. We’d love to hear about your own experiences of navigating sleep in your relationships in the comments section below. — Amanda

By Rachel Kramer Bussel

When my boyfriend and I were looking at our first apartment together last year, the number-one thing we decided we needed in order to get along was…separate bedrooms. Hear me out. We’d tried sharing his king-size bed early in our relationship — resulting in little to no sleep for both of us.

Even today, we have to do it every once in a while in a hotel room, and it’s a challenge (cut to me riding out a bout of insomnia by reading in the bathroom at 3 a.m.). Separate bedrooms aren’t just a requirement for getting our Zs, they are the way we carve out private space in our otherwise-joined lives.

Image designed by Anna Sudit.
Image designed by Anna Sudit.

We’re not the only ones. Arianne Cohen recently proclaimed that sleeping in her “woman cave” (a.k.a. guest room) helped save her marriage.

Jennifer Adams is such an advocate of the two-room solution that she’s devoted a blog, Sleeping Apart Not Falling Apart, to the cause, and has written a book of the same name.

For me and my boyfriend, there are several reasons for separate beds, but I want to knock out the first one that comes up whenever I tell anyone — friend, stranger, therapist — about our arrangement. We don’t do this because we aren’t attracted to each other, or any other obvious relationship red flag. It’s not that at all.

First, we are very different kinds of sleepers. I like to sprawl out under the covers and take up as much space as possible. My boyfriend, who’s a big guy, has a special sleep-number bed that he’s calibrated to fit his body. Whenever he sleeps anywhere else, whether that’s in a hotel room or his parents’ guest room, he sleeps poorly. When we try to snooze inches from one another, we are far too aware of the other person’s body. I react to his talking in his sleep; he hears me snoring.

And, I don’t know about you, but when I don’t get enough sleep (for me, enough is much closer to eight than six hours), I’m not that fun to be around. I’m cranky, hungry, and tired. Schedules play a role, too: He leaves for work at 7 a.m., while I’m a work-from-home freelance writer who sometimes stays up past 2 and sleeps ’til 9.

Plus, on top of being opposite sleep types, we’re also opposite living types — he’s a neat freak and I’m a hoarder. His room has what feels, to me, like tons of empty space. Mine is packed with belongings, many of which find their way into my bed. I invariably share my sheets with several books, my laptop, my cell phone, and a Hello Kitty stuffed animal. For him? Sheets, blankets, and pillows will do.

I made the transition to living with a partner for the first time at age 37, after living alone for seven years. If I’d had to go from being the queen of my castle to trying to live up to his standards of decluttering, I’d go insane. I can handle it in the common areas, but I need some space just for me in which I can decide where things go without having to answer to anyone else. While I wouldn’t go as far as Chris Illuminati and say that every couple should sleep in separate beds, it’s an option worth considering for any pair with mismatched habits.

Still, it’s less about where we rest our heads than what’s happening inside those heads. Sometimes, I want to be alone. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to my boyfriend, per se — I don’t want to talk to anyone. If we shared a bedroom, it would be much harder to carve out that necessary alone time without coming across as rude. Having those boundaries already drawn means that when we are together in bed it’s because we want to be, not just because it’s bedtime.

Shutting the door wouldn’t feel as satisfying if he had every right to open it whenever he wanted. That’s something I especially value when I’m having a tough day. He processes his low moments by talking them out; I do it by crying and I hate for anyone, even my partner, to see me when I do. Though I’m alone all day, sometimes I just want to read or think or have a private phone conversation, which I feel more comfortable doing in a space clearly demarcated as my own. In addition to supporting our emotional health in these many ways, separate rooms mean a faster recovery when we’re sick; we don’t pass our germs back and forth to each other in the night.

While it may seem strange, separate bedrooms has meant that when we do join each other, usually in his bigger, more comfortable bed, it’s code for sexy time (or, at least, sexy talk). We spend plenty of hours curled up on our couch watching TV, or playing Wii bowling, but when we get under the covers we laugh, whisper, make out, and have sex. Maybe not every time, but in general, it’s our cue to turn off our phones and focus on each other (full disclosure: sometimes I need reminding of this). Do we sometimes lie side by side and read or look at our phones or tablets? Yes, but it’s still more intimate, because we are physically closer together and more likely to get it on than we would be separated by half a couch.

After sex, we do what I imagine most couples do — cuddle and talk — but there always comes a point, right as one of us is drifting off, where I kiss him goodnight and leave to go to my own room. That’s the invisible line between our shared and private time.

The other night, I tried to curl up in his bed (I do get jealous of his extra-soft blanket) and he affectionately recommended I keep it moving. While part of me wanted to experience the joy of waking up next to him, I knew he was being practical. For us, the fantasy of spending the night in the same bed will always trump the reality. Instead, I shuffled off to my room, where I get to take up as much space as I want, sleep with the lights on if I so desire, and surprise him in the morning after we’ve each gotten the night of sleep we deserve. And for this twosome, that “arrangement” sure feels like love.

13 thoughts on “The Beauty Of Not Sleeping Together”

  1. Thank your Rachel for a gander into your world. I love having the choice of enjoying your own room, your own bed, your own expression of sleep, as in everything else. When I work with women helping them to reinvigorate their sensual presence, it’s one of the first things I recommend, often to a response like, “you can do that?” The assumption that marriage or living together means sleeping together is an odd point of our collective conditioning. I sent this link of PW to several clients and bookmarked it for future use.

    I’ve found that having a room of one’s own, complete with mattress of one’s own, can also help to spice a relationship up that has fallen on habit or predictability overload, keeping each partner a bit curious about the other.

    As an empath, not only is it energetically complicated to share a bed, my bed cannot be on a common wall with another energy field; neighbor or stranger.

    And, after a lifetime of trying not to be too odd, I have given that up too. I sleep with my head at the foot of the bed so my energy field isn’t banging up against a headboard or wall for 7-8 hours/day. I prefer to have that as a short-lived experience when I have company.

  2. This is an excellent post, thank you for confirming to me what I suspected for myself after reading about Human Design and how we’re all designed different and if we can understand how we all act and react it will save many a relationship and marriage.
    As an empath, and I’m sure many of you are it’s important to sleep in different rooms and beds especially because we can pick up on everything our partner has in his or her energy field, and this has been part of a catalyst to the breakdown of my marriage.
    Don’t get me wrong, I’m in no way implying that this will lead to a relationship breakdown, but I hadn’t slept for years due to the dark energies my husband lived with that were projected onto me until finally after 25 years, the truth came out.
    Everyone goes through his own dark times, some just more than others.
    I am newly separated and I must say I enjoy my time in the bedroom reading, meditating or writing when I finally pick up the pen or keypad. Or simply have my stuff in my bed with me as this too is my private sanctuary where I can have it anyway I like and have access to it when I need.
    It’s been a difficult transition, and I was thinking that when the time comes to be intimate again I would not allow anyone in my home again permanently as property settlement is the hardest thing to go through, but if there can be a legal arrangement and have separate bedrooms there would be no stake from anyone on your possessions or property, that may be an option?
    I’m still adjusting and I would like to thank you for bravely sharing with us.
    Who knows? Maybe I’ll be brave enough to share too as I feel this is so cathartic and freeing when the truth finally is revealed, it unloads all the weight off your heart and begins to dissolve the fear, doubt and insecurity that one feels inside.
    Many blessings and thank you once again. Namaste xxx

  3. I gotta say; the is a very refreshing post. I thought the whole point of relationships was to make it up s you go along, taking into consideration what makes both people comfortable. We have been together for 35 years, raised kids, work hard and enjoy grandkids.
    Essential to both of us is our our mutual needs for solitude and space. We go for long periods of time sleeping together and sleeping separately. We do what we need to do; with each other’s blessing. Neither of us think it means we love each other less; actually more because we know WE are stronger and have more fun, if we both take care of ourselves and tell each other the truth about what we need

  4. Every woman needs a space of her own, finance of her own, and freedom to be who she is.

    Men too?

    Tho I believe in spain(?) to be a ‘man’ you have to have fathered a child planted a tree and written a book

  5. A mentor once told me that space is synomonous with intelligence, and I have been fortunate to create that in my living environment. My “study” is where I go to decompress and feel me again. As for sleep, I prefer my pack, a fat cat, a 55 lb Boxer and a husband who enjoys 10 inches of bed, even when the rest of are not in with him.

  6. Yeah, the sometimes thing seems a good option too. I can see down the line, as he gets older and tends to sleep lighter, that we may do that more and more of that.

    The middle of the night is when I actually get clear ideas and the strong urge to write; he says it’s fine, but I know that has to disturb his sleep. But I just gotta do it while it’s bubbling at the top, so off I pootle down the hall and finish it in my space while he gets to dream on.

    One thing that does happen, is we often wake up having had a similar theme running through our dreams. A bit like, when we are sitting together and I start to hum a song, which it turns out he was just thinking about. So, something seems to travel through the ether…

  7. my first roommate was my best soulmate friend, and i realized then that as much as i loved him and treasured our (everything but sex) relationship, we needed to live next door to each other rather than together. this was assured with my 13 year relationship that followed (he basically moved in by day two) that we needed our own bedrooms for sure. we couldn’t afford that then but the loss of identity and struggle for independence from the co- that i saw growing up and all around me (still), confirmed it over and over and over and again. my mom (in her 60s) met her mate (in his 70s) a couple years ago and they became roomies, both choosing their own bedroom and work space, and they call it an “adventure” as they too have learned the beauty of such. last time i visited she let me have her bed and graciously they bunked together for the first time, thankfully i didn’t stay too long but it was funny (to me) to see my petite little mom and her four gigantic pillows trudging down the hall to his bed (not so much to him i’m sure).

  8. It can be a sometimes thing — there does not need to be the presumption of an always thing. Also some people are more compatible than others sleeping together. For some people it works. I am one for whom even when it works, I need time out…for example even when a lover is visiting from a distance, I need some nights to myself. I never understood how people could share the same bedroom and bed forever — that seems extremely intrusive to me…there is so much overlay.

  9. I have been an advocate of not sleeping in another person’s aura since studying human design. Besides the obvious sleep deprivation factor when you are a very light sleeper and any movement your partner makes wakes you, avoiding the frustration of snoring, and the problem with differing body temperatures, blanket or no blanket, 20 pillows or 1 body pillow. Sleep is a luxury these days, and in my life the best time to commune with higher realms, astral travel , resetting your cosmic clock, without a buddy tagging along. I love my husband, but we are a much better couple when we’re not snarling and resentful to each other in the morning. Since he feels the same, happy days! Thanks Eric for bringing this taboo subject to light, it’s important that we all say what need and practice self care . It takes two mature people to avoid potential meltdown of egos and needing another body next to you, but invitations to snuggle and be intimate are oh so sweet and playful, and I like that, a lot

  10. Heck I am someone who needs separate places from myself! There is only so long I can work in my (admittedly very nice) home office…before I must get a change of scenery in Blue Studio. This is the Pisces w/Gemini on the nadir thing — the double home life. Someone recently loaned me an extra room in my building to use as a music area.

    I know this is not generally possible for most people — especially urban dwellers who would get a glorified studio apartment for what I pay for all of the above. Part of what allows this is my choice not to live in New York City. I have other reasons…mainly it’s just too crowded and there are not enough trees.

    Seventy-five years ago, Wilhelm Reich was talking about the need for “a room of one’s own” if one is to have any sexual or emotional freedom at all. Freedom takes some space. Many people still live with their parents, who do not admit their sexual autonomy as part of their personhood. Many others live with housemates or with roommates and that makes intimacy even more difficult.

    While this is going on, it would seem that people seem less interested in intimacy. Check this out, thanks Amanda Painter for pointing me to it.

    http://www.ted.com/talks/sherry_turkle_alone_together

  11. I know a few people who do this, who have friends who think it is a sure sign of a troubled relationship. Whereas I think it’s incredibly positive.

    Separate beds and rooms used to be the norm for a lot of my friends parents when I was a nipper, including my folks. But it had a different meaning then; they were still secretly totally miserable. Well one of them probably was.

    Hubby is retired, I work from home. We spend most days together, ‘cept when I’m travelling for work. We are v happy bedfellows. When either of us is ill, one of us will shift, to allow each to recover/sleep. But I have an office at home where I hang out and get all the space I need. He has his, which is the kitchen. It’s a cool arrangement, and the food is really good.

  12. From the article Organic Love, Planet Waves, 2001

    <> Our homes need to support our relationships. As our own people, we need our own spaces. It is much healthier for people to have safe retreats, a safe space to call their own. I suggest that in live-in, long-term relationships, people have their own rooms and their own beds, and invite one another as guests.

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