Writer Rachel Kramer Bussel (a contributor to The Frisky) has a unique arrangement with her live-in boyfriend Drew – after kissing each other goodnight at the end of the day, the couple of three years retires to separate bedrooms in their New Jersey apartment. According to an article about their set-up in the New York Post, they’ve slept in separate beds since early on in their relationship, and specifically moved to New Jersey upon deciding to move in together so they could afford a two-bedroom. And they say they couldn’t be happier.
“We’re totally different when it comes to how we like our surroundings. I thrive when I have piles of books and magazines; he can’t relax in a room full of clutter. He also wakes up early; I work from home and prefer to stay up late and sleep in a bit,” explains Kramer Bussel.
“Before, we were both resentful of each other at night. Now we’re excited to see each other every morning.”
The Post posits that while this arrangement may sound unusual, it’s actually becoming more common, citing a National Association of Home Builders statistic which says that 60 percent of newly built homes include dual master suites.
I am all in favor of couples doing whatever works for them instead of blindly adhering to what is typically expected of romantic cohabitation, so this got me thinking about what my own dream scenario would be, should I someday live with a boyfriend or spouse. While I have successfully cohabited before, there were things that drove me absolutely batshit about sharing a bedroom — and a bathroom and, hell, a home in general — with a significant other, and I can imagine those irritants would be even more grating after living alone all these years. However, unlike Bussel and her boyfriend, I never minded sharing a bedroom, save for those nights when I’d be kept awake by my ex’s drunken snores. In fact, I really, really like sleeping next to someone, and love falling asleep tucked into a spooning position. So, I wouldn’t want separate bedrooms.
I would want separate WINGS joined by a shared bedroom. Obviously. (I said this was a dream scenario.)
See, that way, he could decorate his half with all the dumb shit men think a home needs, like black leather and 15 remote controls and beard shavings in the sink, and be as messy as he wants! And I can continue to keep things tidy and decorate with my ever growing collection of handmade weavings (sure, I’ll link to my Etsy) and at least four throw pillows on the couch. We can flip-flop on who cooks/hosts dinner, and then at night, we’ll retire to our shared bedroom, fuck like bunnies and fall asleep cuddling, grateful that we have enough space to be ourselves without driving each other up a wall. Sounds like bliss.[NY Post]
Original by Amelia McDonell-Parry