I was recently catching up on the hilarious Netflix TV series The Four Seasons and in one scene, Tina Fey (who I idolise), and her husband arrive at their hotel only to discover that they’ve been assigned separate beds.
What’s interesting is that they later remark on how much better their sleep is. It’s a hot topic, this separate beds malarkey. Bryony Gordon was recently interviewed by Ateh Jewel for the Second Act podcast and shared that she and her husband sleep in separate beds too.
“We don't share beds because I need my sleep. I want to sleep and he wants to watch documentaries on his iPad in bed. And I'm like, 'this is not helping me sleep. It's very annoying,’” she said.
If you are on a non-HELLO! platform, click here to vote on if sleep divorce can save a marriage.
It’s an interesting idea, this kind of ‘sleep divorce’ concept, but it’s not one I’ll be signing up for. Apparently nearly one in six (15%) of British couples who live together now sleep apart – with almost nine out of 10 (89%) of them doing so in different rooms.
David and Victoria Beckham have entirely separate wings in one of their homes so they can choose to sleep separately if they wish to. It’s a bit like in The Crown where the late Queen and King visit one another now and then but then retire to their own quarters.
My partner Paul and I are not one of these couples. I’ve been quite candid in the past about how we’ve struggled to maintain a healthy sex life (whatever the definition of healthy is). We’ve been together for 29 years, and have busy work lives and relatively young kids at home (12 and 7 year old girls). Would separate beds help? Truth is, I don’t know. Besides, we live in a small house so couldn’t sleep in separate rooms, even if we wanted to.
When the girls were small we rarely slept together as one would be lying on floor, next to the cot in the next room desperately praying that the vibrating sheep toy (which made white noise) would be enough to get them back to sleep. Or one on the sofa downstairs feeding whilst the other tried to catch up on sleep upstairs.
Bedtime habits
I kind of relish the fact that we’re back in the same bed now. Despite finding Paul’s bedtime habits super annoying - he snores, steals the covers, scrolls Facebook before he falls asleep, usually watching old Bowie videos - I still prefer the fact that we’re in one bed. And that we’ve slept in this bed for many many years (it’s definitely time to get a new bed though, the mattress is ancient and not super comfy).
The other thing is, I’m not the perfect sleeping companion either. The older I get, the more ridiculous gadgets, routines and accessories I need to help me welcome the Sandman. First I spray magnesium on my legs (helps with the menopausal aches and pains). Then I listen to a soothing gratitude meditation on my phone (sometimes having a quick check of social media to see if people like me or hate me this evening). Then I slip in noise cancelling earplugs (so I don’t hear the snoring) and finally finish the whole routine off with a silk eye mask so I’m in total darkness. Oh and also I forgot the generous spritz of lavender spray on my pillow to soothe my frazzled brain.
I guess this decidedly unsexy routine might explain why we don’t have sex very often (Paul hates the smell of lavender), but nonetheless I feel it’s important we’re sharing a bed at night. During the week, we live separate routines (he’s a busy Head Chef in a school and I’m a freelance writer and market research consultant) and we don’t see one another much during the day. It’s not that we have massive discussions in bed - he’s relatively quiet and I’m… well, I’m usually doing my complex sleep routine and checking Insta - but there is something intimate and cosy about sharing a bed with your partner.
A familiar presence
For me it’s also a safety thing. There is a familiarity with feeling his presence next to me, and if there’s a weird noise in the house, I can elbow him sharply in the ribs, and he’ll (eventually) jump up to see what the source of the noise is. My worry with separate beds is that you become too insular and self-absorbed. Already we struggle to find things on TV that we both like to watch together. If you look at our Netflix profiles you can see that Paul likes music documentaries and scary programmes about murders. I prefer reality content about rich housewives fighting or lighthearted comedies. The easiest thing would be to go on our individual screens, in our own beds, and get on with it. We would never need to speak again.
I must admit that sometimes it’s tempting, but I don’t want to go down this road. I want us to try and find something we both like - so we have a lot of arguments in front of the TV and spend a long time searching for compromises: light hearted murder programmes with a bit of reality thrown in. This obviously happens downstairs before we go to bed, but I think once you get separate beds, it becomes too easy to just watch TV in bed. Then perhaps you start going to bed earlier than your partner, and then…well when do you hang out? We do actually go to bed at different times as he gets up very very early so tends to be in bed by 9.
However, if we lean too much into a desire for convenience and comfort, will we just be two strangers moving about the house with different content beamed into our eyeballs?
Of course I can see how much easier it would be to have separate beds. Paul doesn’t like my choice of duvet covers (flowery, with even more flowers and some flowers thrown in for good measure). He hates the fact that I have 15 Oliver Bonas cushions with witty slogans like I’VE GOT THIS piled on top of the bed, and he has to hurl them aggressively on the floor before he can clamber in at night (he has zero sleep routine, just closes his eyes and he’s asleep).
I think part of living together is dealing with one another’s foibles and learning to accept them. The fact that they snore. That they like to daub themselves in lavender potions. That they watch David Bowie interviews for 5 minutes before they nod off. That they elbow you in the ribs in the dead of night because they think a rabid fox has gatecrashed the cat flap.
Sex boost?
Thinking about it logically perhaps the separate bed arrangement is more likely to make you have sex with your partner. Perhaps it makes them slightly less familiar? I can see that working, and when I am rich perhaps I could definitely have my own separate wing of the house and visit Paul when I’m in the mood and not doused in lavender.
We recently went on holiday and slept in separate rooms, chiefly because our daughters didn’t want to sleep in their rooms alone. I slept better during this holiday than I usually do. I also felt a bit more mystery that hadn’t been there before in terms of Paul but some of this might have been down to it being warmer, and us not worrying so much about work and everyday domestic doom.
The main thing I fantasise about now is a brand new mattress and a massive bed, like the ones you get in luxury hotels. I want it to be so massive that all of us can sleep comfortably in the same place - mum, dad, kids, and all four of the cats. Perhaps even room for the fox if it behaves itself? I’d buy more cushions with funny slogans. And more flowery duvet covers, more quilts - the kind of bed that you could live in if you wanted to. That’s my idea of heaven. I’m sure some people might think my sex life would be better if I didn’t sleep next to my partner. I’m not convinced it would change anything, but who knows?
