We’d been dating for a few weeks when my now husband spent his first night in my apartment. We weren’t sleeping with each other yet, but we thought we might be ready for a sleepover in my comfy queen-sized bed. After dinner, a movie, and some good old-fashioned making out, we got ready for bed. I assumed my normal position and then, well, everything kind of went wrong.
First, I learned the alarming truth that my sweet partner is a nighttime snuggler. He cuddled right up to me, ready to become the big spoon, and I inwardly groaned. I hate being touched in my sleep. I let him spoon me (young love trumping my own boundaries, I guess) and discovered that he runs very warm at night. It was like snuggling a space heater.
Did I mention this was July? In Arizona? I’m lucky I didn’t die of heat stroke.
Meanwhile, Mr. Cuddles was wondering how he’d ever fall asleep on a bed that was this soft and squishy. He now reports that, for the first time but not the last time, he had found himself wondering how one person could sleep with so many damn pillows. We both suffered for a few hours and then I finally kicked him out of the bed and he spent the rest of our first attempt at spending the night together on the floor at the foot of my bed. Ah, romance!
Although we eventually got used to sleeping in the same bed, that first rocky night was actually a pretty good indicator that even though we are super compatible in many ways, my husband and I were SO not meant to sleep with each other. But married people sleep in the same bed, so we proceeded to compromise on sleep quality for the next decade or so.
We were about to enter the crap sleep years.
In the first 10 years of our marriage, we welcomed two babies and all the sleepless nights that go with that. My normal night owl habits got worse, and I started regularly going to bed two hours or more after my husband, partially so I could dodge the nighttime snuggle routine. He’s a terribly light sleeper, and so I would end up waking him up almost every night, either when I got into bed or when I fell asleep and my snoring started.
I’m a very heavy sleeper, once I fall asleep, and never noticed all the times I kicked off all the covers or when he’d try to roll me over to stop the snoring. The only thing that seemed to wake me was when I’d get overheated and need some space from my hot husband, leading to me sleeping while clinging to the edge of the bed.
When sleep sucks, everything sucks.
With two kids at home, a super-demanding job, and a beloved but tiring Peloton habit, I need my sleep. I sleep in like a college student on the weekends, but I knew I wasn’t getting enough sleep. Lack of sleep has been shown to affect almost every part of our lives, and even the smart folks at the Mayo Clinic say that "Sleep provides the foundation for all our daily habits and decisions. A lack of quality sleep can negatively impact our mood as well as our ability to focus on daily tasks."
I'm going to argue that keeping a healthy marriage is one of our most essential daily tasks! When I’m tired, I’m more likely to get grumpy, to snap back quicker, and to want to skip sex in favor of sleep, which isn’t ideal for the overall health of my marriage. And even though I always rejoiced in having a bed to myself in an ice cold hotel room (the perfect room temperature for sleeping is 61 degrees — fight me), it never really seemed like that good hotel sleep could translate to sleeping at home.
And then a new house and a new diagnosis changed everything.
There were several things that led to our current setup, which is me sleeping in a queen-sized bed with seven pillows and my husband sleeping on a futon with one thin, sad pillow.
First, we moved into a house that has an oversized main bedroom where two beds fit easily. My husband, who has always loved a futon, originally bought one to be a couch for our bedroom. But one night, when I was fighting a nasty head cold, he slept on it and realized it was some of the best sleep he’d had in years.
The second thing that happened was that I was diagnosed with sleep apnea and got a CPAP machine. My bedtime routine now involves looking deeply sexy while wearing a mouth guard (I snore and grind my teeth at night! It’s lucky I’m so cute in the daytime, I suppose) and a mask with a long tube attached to a machine. The good news was that the CPAP is a built-in snuggle repellent; the bad news was that our marital bed was feeling awfully crowded.
We both knew we wanted our own beds, but it was hard to admit it, even to ourselves.
When people watch retro TV shows where the main couple are shown primly sleeping in separate twin beds, it seems hopelessly dated and silly. But I’d watch those shows and feel low-key jealous!
As my husband and I started talking about him making a permanent move to the futon, I think we both knew it would be better for our sleep health, but it felt like we were failing somehow. Were we really as happily married as we thought we were? Would it seem weird to the kids? Would our sex life suffer? Was this really the first step toward some sort of bigger marital separation?
It felt like it was the right decision, but it also felt like it might be weirdly embarrassing to tell other people.
As it turns out, sharing a bed isn’t as central to a happy marriage as people might think it is.
Once we started sleeping in separate beds, we both started sleeping better, more deeply, and with less interrupted sleep. This is such a good thing for both our physical health and our overall moods. My husband says he misses snuggling at night sometimes, but I try to meet that need by stopping by the futon on the way to my bed for some snuggles. I find that I’m able to tolerate getting too warm when I know I have my own cool sheets waiting for me. Our sex life is fine, thanks to regular field trips to one bed or the other.
We’re both happy with this setup, but it took us a few years to actually 'fess up to friends that we sleep separately. I think I worried that it would seem like I was telling them my marriage was in trouble, but I’ve been surprised, instead, at how many friends are secretly jealous of my solo bed. Except the snugglers, of course. Those weirdos who don't need personal space are horrified at the thought of missing out on the chance to smell someone’s bad morning breath every morning, apparently.
In the end, the solo sleeping situation is just like so many other marriage things: the decision that makes the most sense for us, no matter what anyone else thinks. For me, having my own bed and that time alone at night makes me more willing to connect in the morning. Better sleep makes everything better, marriage included.
