Dear Baroness, What do you think about separate bedrooms?
I’m having an argument with my best friend and was hoping you might help us. I think that having separate bedrooms is a grand idea whilst in a relationship and my best friend seems to think this is a recipe for disaster.
Whose side will you take?
Gimme My Space, Man
Darling Gimme Space,
You’re right. Case closed. End of story. Your friend is a silly prat and should stop being so needy.
Are we finished here? I have some 1982 Dom chilling in my ice box just calling for me to uncork and imbibe solo on the divan. . .
Alright, you’re right. The debate’s the thing. Let's dive in . . .
It’s true. I do happen to agree with you. I’ve always dreamed of having separate bedrooms and though I’m currently between marriages (as my grandmamma used to muse), when at last I do again wed, (I’ll tell you a secret. As much as The Baroness enjoys her freedom, she must admit there is something about the institution which she simply adores. A question for the ages, it seems . . .) you can bet your sweet ass I’ll insist upon it.
But Baroness! What about all the pre and post coital snuggling? The all night spooning? (I hate that term, can someone please come up with another?) The ability to roll over in the middle of the night and crawl on top of your lover? Darlings! You can still do that and have separate bedrooms!
I get why you’d want to share a space. To share a room. To be together. To have the ritual of getting ready for bed and going to bed together. Of waking up together. Every. Single. Night. Sounds cute. Ish. But the reality is that one of you will need to blow your nose, clip your toenails, drool while sleeping, toss and turn, snore (gasp!) and other unsightly yet human things.
Not to say you have not or will not see and hear these things, but why subject yourself to them unnecessarily? I can hear some of you now, telling me this is ridiculous and we’re all human and denying our various nasty proclivities is not healthy. I do agree that we don’t want to shame anyone here, and I’m not suggesting we do. Let’s all pick and poke and cut and snuffle and snort as we’re wont to do, but NOT IN THE PRESENCE OF OTHERS!
(I could go on here about the abhorrent habit some people have of using the loo with the door open, but I don’t really relish getting into it. Let’s just say there is a door for a reason and if you wish to keep any semblance of romance and mystery alive in your relationship, you’ll keep it closed, for heaven’s sake.)
Some of you also have the strange desire to don inappropriate bed wear (and here I’m talking about sweat pants, old t-shirts, knickers that should have been retired circa 1987, and so on) which I say should be kept for your nights alone. But really, never. Either sleep in the buff or in something divine. There is no in between.
Surely you can’t tell me that the thought of retiring to your own space, with your own things, where you want them, how you want them, when you want them, does not sound appealing, because it does.
This does not mean romance is dead! Quite the opposite! When you do invite your partner into your space (which could be once a week or every night but one, it’s all up to you, of course), you are immediately and automatically setting up the expectation for something special, or at the very least, something not quotidian. It does not have to be candles and rose petals and violins every time, but the idea is that you are leaving the mundanity out of the routine for now. It’s about the two (or more?) of you and not the book you’re reading or the show you’re binge watching (solo or together). Which you can do too, of course. On another night. On the sofa.
Sometimes you want to sleep alone. Sometimes you don’t want to feel the heavy breathing of another on your neck, you want to sleep in peace. You know you do. I do. And sometimes you do want to spend the night in the arms of a strapping, hairy, muscle bound god who will wake you with a knowing smile, a poke in the back and another roll in the hay.
Then you can leave one another, walk down the hall to your own boudoir (with attached bath, of course), hop in the shower, taking as long as you want, towel off, walk into your walk in closet, choose your favorite dressing gown and go down to breakfast where your mate will greet you with a fresh-breathed smooch, a knowing smile, a slap on the derrière and a plate full of eggs over easy, crisp bacon, 1/2 grapefruit and perhaps even a Bloody Mary along side a cup of Anastasia Kusmi tea.
Could anything be more perfect? I think not.
It's not about intimacy, my darlings. One needs space and time to one's self in order to be content and fulfilled, whether you want to acknowledge it or not. It's not a failure to want and need your space. It's a briliant thing, really. After all, if you can't enjoy and even relish your time alone, how can you ever truly be content as part of a pair?
So start saving your pennies now, my pets, we'll all be needing larger flats. . .
Who knows? Perhaps, I'll be recommending separate flats next - next door to your lover. Is that even better or just too much? Do weigh in. I may be losing touch with reality as I fantasize about decorating an entire flat in fuschia, feathers and flea market finds with no one to tell me it's just tootootoo much.
Sleep well, darlings. Stretch out and enjoy the silence.
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