The Case for the Scandinavian Sleep Method
If sharing a bed (and a blanket) with your partner is becoming untenable, consider a duvet divorce.
If sharing a bed (and a blanket) with your partner is becoming untenable, consider a duvet divorce.
A bed is never just a bed—it’s a microcosm for a relationship. At least this is how it feels for many, as became clear to me after I started asking couples if they would consider the Scandinavian sleep method: you share a bed, but switch out the large comforter for two blankets. Some people bristled at the thought of any level of bed separation, but if you’ve ever suffered a nocturnal cold draft down your back, courtesy of the blanket hog next to you, I invite you to consider a small but mighty nighttime revolution. It’s not the dreaded "sleep divorce", where you retreat to separate rooms, but simply a blanket divorce, which may well make you better partners to each other when you’re awake.
This has certainly been the case for my partner Luke and I, as we’ve had separate blankets in our bed for two years now. I have my duvet, thick and delicious with a weighted blanket on top, and he has his thinner covers, enjoyed in a burrito-tuck. We’re still sleeping together but ever so slightly separately, happily at rest under a copy of the "Bed Peace" sign that John Lennon and Yoko Ono drew for their 1969 bed-in for peace. The print was acquired to celebrate the end of an era of nighttime frustrations, to celebrate the resulting blessed bed peace that we now enjoy.
I’m amazed it took me so long, as the Scandinavian sleep method is the norm in Norway where I grew up. When I call my mother, Magni, she remarks how our next-door neighbors bought a double comforter in the 1990s—an outlier event in our rural village still remembered to this day. "Because it’s so nice to wrap up in your own duvet, especially in winter," she tells me in Norwegian. My mother and her husband like to keep their bedroom window open, at least until the temperature drops below 10 degrees Fahrenheit. Safe to say I won’t be doing that—I’m pretty sure that Luke, who’s American, would initiate a divorce, sleep or otherwise. But my mother loves sleeping cold: "Your head feels so much fresher for it!" She laughs. "And I like my duvet pulled up to my ears. It’s good to have my own, so I can sleep free."
In the majority of countries and cultures, the societal norm is for couples to share a bed. This comes with the subtle implication that if you don’t, there may be relationship trouble—after all, "sleeping together" is also a euphemism for sex. But who wants to have sex if you’re exhausted and enraged with a partner who’s spent the night turning like a rotisserie chicken? "Sometimes separation will actually help you get along better, because there’s less resentment over disruption of sleep, schedules, waking up at night and things like that," Dr. Seema Khosla, medical director at North Dakota Center for Sleep and a sleep expert with the American Academy of Sleep Medicine, tells me over video. Khosla dislikes the term "sleep divorce," as "it is just being respectful of your own sleep space."
And we’re increasingly unwilling to compromise on rest—sleep has been called "the ultimate modern luxury" by the likes of Vogue. According to the American Academy of Sleep Medicine (AASM), just 10 percent of us have tried the Scandinavian sleep method in an attempt to repair interrupted sleep, and we’re throwing money at the problem with orthopedic pillows, supplements, temperature-regulating sleeping pads, and tech tools such as silent alarms. But some nighttime problems are harder to solve, such as snoring, restless limbs, night terrors, or a partner who gets up five times in the night to use the bathroom. The AASM found that an entire one-third of Americans sleep in a different bed from our partners, and when breaking it down by age, millennials are more likely than every other cohort to opt for bedding down in another room.
Sleep is fundamental to our well-being. "It doesn’t matter how clean you eat and how much exercise you do. If you’re not sleeping well, you don’t [get any of] those benefits," says Khosla. She thinks most sleep problems can be resolved, and there’s lots of things to try before the CPAP machine and its unsexy reputation. "But not everybody wants to be in that same sleep space," says Khosla, who thinks it doesn’t need to be a problem. It all comes down to why people are doing it: "Are you sleeping apart because of sleep? Or are you sleeping apart because you hate each other now?"
Dr. Wendy Troxel, senior sleep scientist at global nonprofit research organization RAND and author of Sharing the Covers: Every Couple’s Guide to Better Sleep, researches sleep specifically from the point of view of how it impacts relationships. "A well-slept individual is a better partner. When we get the sleep we need, we’re better communicators, we’re happier, we’re less prone to depression and substance use. We’re more empathic toward our partners," Troxel tells me over the phone. "We’re starting to see this practice of separate duvets, among other strategies, to help couples individualize their sleep experience while still sharing a bed. [Using separate blankets] allows them to still have the physical closeness and intimacy that you derive from sharing a bed."
Despite the various issues associated with sharing a bed, most couples really enjoy sleeping next to each other and are willing to put up with a little disruption. "When we measure sleep objectively, [we find] that people sleep somewhat worse when sharing a bed," says Troxel, pointing out that 30 percent of an individual’s sleep is dependent on the bed partner, who’s never going to lie stock-still. But when those same people are asked if they prefer sleeping alone, it’s a different story: even though they sleep slightly worse, they still prefer being together. "This suggests that for some people, the psychological benefit of sharing a bed, where you feel the comfort, security and warmth of your bed partner, overrides most objective impairments to your sleep."
For centuries it was normal for the entire family to share a bed, as well as bunking with friends or even strangers if the situation called for it. Couples in the Victorian era would have separate bedrooms if they could afford it, in a trend that continued for certain social classes until the mid-1950s, but this is a historical anomaly—sleep has almost always been a social activity.
"Sleep is not just an individual experience. Couples need to find ways to negotiate and work through those challenges that can come up at night," says Troxel. She says there’s no proof that sleeping predicts relationship quality, "but it’s really about how couples arrive at the decision for their sleeping arrangements." If one party heads for the sofa in a huff to escape a snorer singing the song of their people, bad feelings can arise on both sides—one feels resentment, the other abandonment. "But couples who arrive at the decision through open and honest communication do not see decline in their relationship quality. In fact, many couples will say their decision to sleep apart is the key to their happy relationship," says Troxel.
Luke and I made the big blanket change after a week in Berlin, where our Airbnb came with two single duvets—alongside Norway, Sweden, Denmark and Iceland, the Scandinavian sleep method is also commonly practiced in Germany. After this uniquely restful vacation, we decided to continue the experiment at home, albeit with two double duvets. I found the singles too narrow, whereas a double to yourself—the luxury! Plus it means Luke has a buffer to protect himself from me: "You’re a terror to sleep with," he says, matter-of-factly. "You’re great, but being unconscious next to you is not pleasant." Apparently I’m a blanket stealer, and also, I "tend toward the diagonal," leaving little room for anyone else. "Separate blankets establish a more firm boundary," says Luke. "Now I have enough blanket to cover my entire body through the entire night. I don’t want to share anymore."
Brutal. But while I’m the villain in the tale, I love it too. Luke often gets up earlier than me, and having my own blankets means it doesn’t wake me anymore. Plus we could never agree on blanket thickness, and now I can suit myself. And we’re still in the same bed—any time we want, we can just reach out from under the covers and find each other.
Illustration by Daniel Crespo
Related Reading:
