Why is it taboo to discuss the ‘separate bedroom’ issue? What’s it got to do with sex anyhow? Somehow, tradition, myth and foregone conclusions have fooled us into believing that we must sleep together, in order for us to ‘sleep’ together. That somehow one form of sleep guarantees quality and quantity in both; a good sleep life equals a good ‘sleep’ life. And, without doubt, to be recognised as a successful couple, we must surely indulge in ‘both’ activities, not only in the same bedroom, but in the same bed; all rainbows and lollipops.
Truthfully, as we all acknowledge, one has absolutely nothing to do with the other. Comfort allows us to sleep in our beds but the whole house is available if we want to ‘sleep’ together. And, if we’re being totally honest, ‘sleeping’ together has absolutely nothing to do with slumber. (Anyway, I have it on good authority that taking it out of the bedroom makes for an exciting and innovative love life; kitchen floor sex is good for you apparently.)
Why is it socially unacceptable for couples to sleep apart? “You know they have separate bedrooms”. Did she just ‘nudge’ me?
That one accusatory sentence has so very many implications and presumptions. The overriding connotation silently suggests the partnership is doomed and all over bar the shouting. The implied undertone, unmistakeable in its inference, suggests only dire repercussions.
Poppycock, tosh, claptrap and bolder-dash; all words I use when profanities are not apropos. Gosh darn it.
Is anyone so completely simpatico with their partner so as to sleep and wake in a beautifully coordinated orchestra ballet of perfection, never toss and turn, snore, fart, slobber, annoy, get sick, get old, get drunk or need bathroom visits? Who hasn’t slept in the spare bedroom/lounge/whatever and maybe that lone-sleeping episode was bliss; pure, unadulterated, heaven-sent delightful, uninterrupted slumber. But you dare not admit it because? Because why?
Many, many people who occupy the same bed simply do not want sex, a cuddle, a massage, to talk; they actually may just wish to sleep, read, watch television or listen to music. What are the chances of two normal adult humans wanting to do all/any/some of these activities vaguely at the same time? Minimal I would suggest.
Let’s presume we’re all adults and can communicate our sexual needs to each other and take care of the same. Let’s take sex out of the equation and agree the act does not have to take place in the same room, in the same bed, on every occasion or, if at all. Okay? Elephant’s big trunk (tee hee giggle, sorry) is out of the room.
I don’t see why two people in a committed relationship can’t have two separate bedrooms. I’m also at a loss as to why some people are ashamed to admit they like to sleep alone, that they prefer their own bedroom, their own space. Why does that suggest to some that love and caring have left the union?
Personally, I think the exact opposite. To allow each other the respect of choice without jumping to unfounded conclusions, entering into a healthy discussion and coming to a mutually satisfactory conclusion speaks volumes about a successful, happy cohabitation.
Falling asleep in each other’s arms, enjoying a refreshing 8 hours sleep and magically waking up still thus entwined is, for most of us, the stuff of fairytales but, if that’s your happy-ever-after reality, congratulations. Most of us cope with a horse of another colour. Sometimes it’s green from indigestion or nausea, red from flatulence, a whitish yellow from restless leg syndrome or allergies and so it goes on. Each partner taking on an allocated hue depending on the malady; multi-coloured it maybe, a rainbow it is not.
May I advocate you do what suits your lifestyle and tell everyone else to stick it up their jumpers, go fly a kite, take a long run off a short pier and go suck on a lollipop. Sleeping together and/or occupying the same bedroom has absolutely nothing to do with the state of your union or the state of your sex life. It’s simply a matter of choice.
Anyway, kitchen floor sex is good for your back.*
*No, no it isn’t, please don’t try kitchen floor sex.
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