According to a survey, only 14% of couples sleep in separate beds every night. And while many of us might believe in the saying “couples who sleep apart grow apart” there are studies that show the opposite is actually true.
We at Bright Side believe that there are no wrong or right sleep arrangements, because to some, sleeping in different beds can be as pleasing as for others sharing a bed with their partner.
A poor night’s sleep can turn lovers into fighters.
According to research, sharing a bed with a partner that has restless sleep behavior can deprive you of 49 minutes of sleep each night. And, when one partner doesn’t get a proper night’s sleep because of the other, it will most likely result in a conflict between them the next day.
Actually, the study even confirmed that couples who tend to have a poor night’s sleep have more severe and more frequent fights than those who wake up well-rested. People who get a good night’s sleep, on the other hand, are more likely to be in a good mood, have lower stress levels, and be more patient.
Resenting your partner because you can’t get a good night’s sleep can be destructive to the relationship.
Snoring, fidgeting, and bed or blanket hogging are just a few of many reasons why some couples choose to sleep in different beds or even in different bedrooms. Lying awake listening to your partner snoring while you beat yourself up to fall asleep can lead to a build-up of anger, tension, and resentment toward your partner.
According to Jennifer Adams, author of Sleeping Apart Not Falling Apart, sleeping in a separate bedroom can even help a relationship thrive because both partners are not sleep deprived.
Each partner can tailor their sleeping conditions to their heart’s content.
Tina Cooper, a licensed social worker, sleeps in different bedrooms with her partner because of their opposite sleeping habits. “I’m a night owl, he’s an early bird. I need soothing sounds to fall asleep, and he likes silence. He likes a hard mattress, and I like soft and full of pillows. And because I don’t like the early day’s sunlight, my boyfriend gave me the master bedroom which gets less light and he has the second largest room that gets the sunrise he loves.”
How you spend the nighttime in your shared bedroom with your partner can also influence your daytime functioning, marital satisfaction, and psychological and physical health. And when 2 people with different bedtime preferences and nighttime schedules end up together, changing themselves just to please their partner’s needs might harm their relationship in the long run.
Sleeping in different bedrooms with your partner means that the 2 of you will have a place just for yourselves where you can relax after an exhausting day. This way, both of you can satisfy your needs without tiptoeing around and worrying about whether your partner might wake up because you want to watch the latest episode of your show before bed.
Even if you don’t remember waking up, disturbed sleep can have a negative impact on your overall health.
During the night, our brain cycles through the stages of sleep several times: light sleep, deep sleep, and REM (Rapid eye movement sleep). But when you interrupt the cycle by waking up during the night, it means that your brain spends more time in the light sleep stage and misses out on REM. And without sufficient REM your emotional well-being and cognitive performance suffer.
Interrupted sleep can also have short and long-term health consequences, like hypertension, weight-related issues, mental health problems, reduced quality of life, and other health-related issues.
People on Reddit share why they decided to sleep separately with their partner.
- “Because a good night’s sleep is more romantic than sharing a bed. I snore and toss and turn. He gives off literal village levels of heat in his sleep and I can’t stand the heat. I read, he can’t stand light. We keep different hours to an extent. A million reasons. We get along so much better this way.” — crankyweasels
- “My partner and I have completely separate bedrooms. We ’sleepover’ occasionally in each other’s rooms. However, we both sleep exponentially better apart. He’s a night owl and I’m an early bird. He wants only one sheet on him, I want 10 lbs of blankets. In addition, having a separate room allows me to decorate it however I want, have my own personal space, and keep it to the level of cleanliness I prefer. People look at us sideways when I mention the separate rooms thing, but it’s been a game-changer.” — eriasana
- “Different sleep cycles due to different work schedules. We are still madly in love and we both agreed to this because it’s the best for both of us.” — AFishInATank
- “Early in our relationship, 90% of our fights occurred in the bedroom. I like to sleep in a cold room with the fan on and white noise like a box fan. I also like to go to sleep with the TV on. She likes to sleep in a warm, still, cave in complete silence and darkness. We started sleeping in separate rooms and all of a sudden 90% of our fights stopped. Also, because we were getting real sleep, other fights turned more into heated discussions.” — ttc8420
What are your sleeping arrangements with your partner? Do you believe sleeping in different beds can help a relationship thrive?
Rich Man Humiliates Boy Shining Shoes in Underpass
“My dog could do a better job with his tongue!” A wealthy man insults a poor boy shining shoes in an underpass and refuses to pay. But fate brings them face-to-face again the very next day, with a surprising twist neither could have expected.
The underground passage echoed with the shuffle of hurried footsteps. Amidst the hustle, 14-year-old Martin sat quietly by the wall, his shoe-shining kit spread before him. His eyes darted hopefully at each passing shoe, praying for a customer…
A teenage boy sitting in an underpass | Source: Midjourney
“Just a handful,” he whispered to himself. “Just a handful today, please.”
As the day wore on, Martin’s stomach growled in protest. The meager breakfast of two bread slices felt like a distant memory. He reached for his water bottle, taking a small sip to quell the hunger pangs.
“You can do this, Martin,” he told himself. “For Mom and Josephine.”
The thought of his paralyzed mother and little sister waiting at home bolstered his courage. He plastered on his best smile, ready to tackle whatever the day would bring.
A sad boy in an underpass | Source: Midjourney
“Shoe shine, sir? Ma’am?” he called out, his voice barely audible above the din of the underpass.
Hours ticked by, but no one stopped. Martin’s hopes began to dwindle, but he refused to give up. As the afternoon sun beat down, he finally allowed himself a moment of respite. Digging into his worn leather bag, he pulled out a small orange, his lunch for the day.
Just as he began to peel it, a pair of dirty brown leather shoes landed in front of him with a heavy thud.
“Hurry up, kid. Clean it. I’m in a rush,” a gruff voice barked.
A brown leather shoe | Source: Pexels
Martin looked up, his heart racing with excitement and trepidation. The man towering above him exuded wealth from head to toe. This could be his chance for a good tip.
“Right away, sir!” Martin said, setting aside his orange and reaching for his supplies.
As he worked on the brown leather shoes, the man’s impatience grew. “What’s taking so long? I don’t have all day!”
A person brushing a brown shoe | Source: Pexels
Martin’s hands trembled slightly, but he focused on giving his best service. “Almost done, sir. I promise it’ll look great.”
The man scoffed. “At your age, I was already making more than my father. I wasn’t shining shoes like some beggar.”
Those words stung poor Martin. It had been three years since a drunk driver had taken his father’s life, leaving their family shattered. The memory of that fateful night still haunted Martin—the screeching tires, the sickening crunch of metal, and the devastating news that followed.
A grave in a cemetery | Source: Pexels
Just months after losing his father, Martin’s world crumbled further when his mother Mariam suffered a stroke, leaving her paralyzed. At just eleven years old, he had shouldered the burden of a provider, sacrificing his childhood to follow in his late father’s footsteps as a shoe shiner.
The memories threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed them aside. He had a job to finish. He had a family to feed.
“You call this shining?” the man sneered, examining his shoe. “My dog could do a better job with his tongue!”
A wealthy senior man | Source: Freepik
Martin’s cheeks burned with shame. “I’m sorry, sir. I can try again—”
“Forget it,” the man cut him off, pulling out his phone. “Yeah, Sylvester here. Reschedule the meeting to 4. I’ll be late, thanks to this incompetent brat.”
As Sylvester ranted into his phone, Martin’s mind drifted to happier times. He remembered his father’s gentle hands guiding him, teaching him the art of shoe shining.
A distressed teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
“It’s not just about the shine, son,” he’d say. “It’s about dignity. Treat every shoe like it’s the most important one you’ll ever touch.”
“Hey! Are you even listening?” Sylvester’s sharp voice yanked Martin back to reality. “What’s your father doing, sending you out here like this? Too lazy to work himself, huh?”
Martin’s throat tightened. “My father… he passed away, sir.”
Close-up of a sad teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
Sylvester’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see. So your mother’s probably moved on with someone else, popping out more kids to send begging, right? Don’t you people have anything better to do?”
Martin’s fists clenched at his sides, but he forced a polite smile. “That’s $7, sir.”
“SEVEN DOLLARS?” Sylvester exploded. “For this pathetic excuse of a shine? I don’t think so, kid.”
Before Martin could react, Sylvester grabbed his shoes and stormed off, leaving Martin empty-handed and heartbroken.
A frustrated senior man | Source: Freepik
“Wait!” he called out, chasing after the man. “Please, sir! I need that money. Please!”
But Sylvester was already in his car, speeding away, leaving poor Martin stranded in a cloud of dust and disappointment.
He slumped against the wall, tears streaming down his face. He looked up at the sky, imagining his father’s face.
“I’m trying, Dad,” he whispered. “I’m really trying.”
His father’s last words echoed in his mind: “Remember, son. Never give up. Each bump is a step closer to your dreams. Remember.”
A sad boy looking up | Source: Midjourney
Wiping his tears, Martin returned to his spot. There was no time for self-pity. No time for tears.
The next morning, Martin was back at his usual spot, setting up his kit with determination. Suddenly, a commotion nearby caught his attention.
“Help! Someone help!” a woman’s frantic voice pierced the air.
Martin rushed towards the sound, his heart pounding.
A startled senior woman covering her mouth | Source: Freepik
A small crowd had gathered around a fancy car, and to his shock, he recognized the man inside. SYLVESTER. The same entitled man who had insulted him.
“He’s choking on an apple!” someone yelled. “The car doors are locked!”
Without hesitation, Martin grabbed a rock from the roadside and smashed the car window. Glass shattered everywhere as he reached in to unlock the door.
“Stand back!” he shouted, pulling Sylvester out onto the pavement.
A car with a broken window | Source: Pixabay
With all his might, Martin delivered several sharp blows to Sylvester’s back. Suddenly, a chunk of apple flew from Sylvester’s mouth, and he gasped for air.
“You… you saved me,” Sylvester wheezed, looking up at Martin with wide, shocked eyes.
Martin helped him to his feet, his own hands shaking. “Are you okay, sir?”
Sylvester nodded, still catching his breath. “I can’t believe it. After how I treated you yesterday… Why did you help me?”
Martin shrugged. “It was the right thing to do.”
A thoughtful senior man holding his glasses | Source: Pexels
Sylvester’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, kid. I was horrible to you. Please, let me make it up to you. Name your price. Anything!”
Martin thought for a moment, then looked up. “Just the $7 from yesterday. That’s all I want.”
Sylvester stared at him in disbelief. “But… I could give you so much more. A new start, maybe?”
Martin shook his head. “I don’t need a new start, sir. I just need to take care of my family.”
Side view of a teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
Reluctantly, Sylvester handed over the money. As the crowd dispersed, he lingered, studying Martin’s face. “You’re quite something, kid. What’s your name?”
“Martin, sir.”
Sylvester nodded slowly. “Martin. I won’t forget this… or you.”
As Sylvester walked away to his car, Martin clutched the hard-earned money in his fist. He looked up at the sky again, a small smile beaming on his face.
“I remember, Dad,” he whispered. “I always do.”
A smiling teenage boy looking up | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, Martin was jolted awake by his sister’s excited screams.
“Marty! Marty! Come quick!”
He rushed outside, his mother calling after them in confusion. There, on their doorstep, sat a white bag bulging with cash and a note.
A bag full of cash | Source: Pexels
With trembling hands, Martin read aloud:
“Thanks is a small word for what you did. I know you’d refuse this. But you deserve a happy childhood. Took me just an hour to find your address. The world’s a small place, isn’t it?! Hope we meet again someday, and I hope you’re just the pure heart of gold you are!
— Sylvester.”
Tears of joy and shock filled Martin’s eyes. His sister jumped up and down, and their mother called out from inside, clearly shocked at seeing so much money.
“Martin? What’s going on?” she approached in her wheelchair.
A woman in a wheelchair | Source: Pexels
Martin’s mind raced. This money could change everything: his mother’s treatment, Josephine’s education, and their entire future. But was it right to accept it?
He walked to the small altar in their cottage, grabbing two pieces of paper. On one, he wrote “REMEMBER,” and on the other, “FORGET.” He folded them, shuffling them with his hands.
Lighting a candle before the crucifix, Martin closed his eyes. “Dad,” he whispered, “help me make the right choice.”
A burning wax candle against the backdrop of a cross | Source: Pexels
With a deep breath, he picked up a piece of folded paper and slowly opened it. A small smile lit up his face when he saw the word “REMEMBER.”
In that moment, Martin knew. He would accept the money, not for himself, but for his family. He would remember his father’s lessons, his own struggles, and the kindness that can exist even in the hardest of hearts.
A young boy smiling | Source: Midjourney
“Josephine!” he called out, his voice brewing with emotion. “Go tell Mom we’re going to the doctor today. And then… maybe we’ll stop for ice cream on the way home. Get Mom a new comfy mattress. And lots of groceries for the entire week!”
As Josephine’s delighted squeals filled the air, Martin clutched the note to his chest. He had remembered, and in doing so, he had found a way forward.
Side view of a happy boy | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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