There’s things to consider when you’re (planning to be) getting back on the horse. The horse, in this case, being a new partner (winkwinknudgenudge).
It’s not just the dating, the tentative getting-to-know-someone questions, the awkward routine-discoveries (seriously, I once knew a guy who brushed his teeth every time he’d eat something….which was quite often) and the plunge into values and norms (what if they suddenly turn out to be a conspiracy theorist flat earther with a passionate hatred for GMO foods or AI innovations) that needs to be taken into account when you’re matching up a new boo to your old standards. No no no.
There’s simpler (and in their simplicity enormously important) things to discover about any new person in your life. Yet, simple as they might be – they hold much more danger for a budding relationship than something as complex as worldviews and (lack of) political interests. Because if there’s a mismatch on these simple basics – there’s only doom ahead for your love-interest. These days, my mind often wanders to the inevitable point that will be upon me in the (near) future: sleeping with a new partner.
Not the sexy kind – obviously. I am chaste until marriage, everyone knows that. Nope. I mean the good old, pure and clean sleepy kind of sleep.
And I hate. The. Thought. Of. It.
Throughout life there has been one constant for me – sleep. I have a passionate love-hate relationship with my (or any) bed. I LOVE sleeping, snoozing and every other denominator that consists of me getting to lose consciousness in the fluffy sea of pillows and blankies. Tell me that I can be in bed all day and I’m a happy camper!
Yet I’ve also consistently been plagued by the nightmares, body-betrayals (DOOM TO MIDNIGHT TOE CRAMPS!) and insomnia that make sleeping a living hell when you’re not doing a very good job at it. And all of that is WITHOUT taking a possible partner into consideration.
Sleeping alone is hard enough as it is – add another blanket-hoarding, possibly-snoring, elbow-slapping, drool-inducing bedpartner….and things get really tricky. So I worry about this. A lot.
I’ve not had very good sleeping-together-experiences in the past. Trauma’s about (being accused of and laughed at for) snoring (oh the HORROR!). Fights about not being able to not-turn-over every 5 minutes or so (wigglewiggle). Blanket and pillow-fights that did not involve giggling girls and flying feathers but angry accusations and extra bedding purchases. Plus – I’m not looking forward to once more defending my right to have eight pillows on my bed. I’m a grown ass woman. I CAN HAZ.
All of that is just the basic bed-dynamics that can already be a total mismatch. What’s even worse? Throughout my sleeping-career I’ve found that there’s very different types of sleepers. And where I’m a constant-contact kind of person, spoiled by eight years of full-night cuddles (spooning throughout the night=lifegoals) – most men aren’t ‘into’ that kinda thing. These people-shaped ovens usually burn through the capability to stay in touch with their bed-neighbor within minutes and then retreat into their corner of the bed (usually WITH too much of the blanket) – never to be seen again (til morning). And I fucking hate that.
I can’t deal with ‘just’ being in a bed with someone. I’ll wake them up 50 times a night when I still try to get a fingertip in the crook of an elbow, or the back of a hand pressed against a shoulder. Or the tip of the nose pressed to the back. All of that is (apparently) often already too much to ask. But I don’t want an untouchable entity in my bed. Then I’d rather cuddle with one of my eight pillows Han Solo style. (Ps. Bertus the pregnancy pillow always wins in a cuddle match). But sleeping patterns like those – can’t be changed. You can’t turn a sleep-einzelganger into a spoon-afficionado. Believe me, I tried. And if I have to look forward to spending eternity with someone who can’t bear to keep me in their arms throughout the deep dark hours of night – I’m checking out.
Worse still: There’s the simple matter of actually getting to the point of FALLING ASLEEP. I’ve been around people that are somehow impossible to fall asleep next to. Whether it’s insecurity (if you make fun of me snoring once, rest assured I’ll never fall asleep after from fear or reoccurence) or a subconscious trust-issues. Whether it’s body heat or involuntary muscle spasms (seriously guys, what’s up with your random twitching?!) – I’ve had people in my bed that kept me wide awake throughout the entire goddamn night (without attempting to) for the simple fact that I can’t get to the point of dozing off.
Warning – though train incoming:
Those nights are usually filled with me being TOO conscious of my breathing. Trying to regulate it to a point of ‘normal’ breathing and then getting stuck in irregular breathing because apparently my view of normal doesn’t fit my body and then I’m suddenly breathing awkwardly and worrying about them noticing that I’m trying to control my breathing and then obsessing about failing to breathe like a normal person followed by noticing just how uncomfortably my arm is positioned and trying to move it without disturbing them but inevitably waking them up by super-subtly-moving and and and.
Sleeping with people is a bitch.
But when it works. When you find someone whose arms make you feel safe. Who keeps the nightmares at bay and whose body curls around yours just right? When you lie next to someone whose breathing calms yours and whose heat is just enough to warm your soul without scorching your skin? When you find yourself next to someone who you feel comfortable enough next to to accept any involuntary snoring, twisting and turning (OR WORSE….bowel functionality -> women don’t do that, obviously. No sleep-farting. Nope. Non-existent) – that’s when heaven descends on earth and a bed becomes a haven for the best….times…..ever. It’s addictive. Impossible to resist. Something to hold on to for dear life.
I’m just hoping I find someone for that last category – instead of enduring the horrors of the first part of this writing. FINGERS CROSSED.