Does your partner snore?

On sleep deprivation, intimacy, and the politics of sharing a bed

Oh, hi. It’s me, Tass.

This newsletter is an invitation for an unhinged conversation, the kind we could have over brunch or a glass of wine with friends who actually care. So pour yourself something to drink and sit with me for five minutes — let’s talk about sleep and snoring husbands.

We don’t just talk, we meet in real life too. This Sunday: ceramics workshop.
And save the date — Thursday, April 9, dinner time (details down below).

I always thought sleeping well was a superpower—until I realized it’s a mix of superpower, luck, and life setup.

I turned on the local TV the other day, and they were comparing how many people don’t sleep well across different states in Brazil. I’m in the worst place (Distrito Federal), and it caught my attention because my sister is a bad sleeper, while my mom and I are on the other side of the sleeping spectrum.

I fall asleep fast, sleep well, and snore a bit, but I’m a light sleeper. If I’m not using my earplugs, I might wake up in the middle of the night because of my husband’s snoring. It must be funny to watch us sleep. Years ago, my earplugs became my secret weapon: they really changed the game for me. Nowadays, they are with me everywhere, and I don’t even risk sleeping without them. I might wake up miserable now and then, never for reasons I can avoid, though.

The TV report didn’t go into why women top the rankings for poor sleep, so I have a few theories: maybe her husband snores and falls asleep before she does. Maybe her husband snores and falls asleep before she does. Maybe she’s the one getting up at night to check on the kids. Maybe a terrible public transport system stretches her commute, and as you might remember, the world out there is less safe for women — so the safest route, not the smartest, is the one we take.

For now, let’s focus on snoring men because it turns out that it’s not a sexist stereotype: men snore almost twice as much as women do. The gap will only narrow after menopause or pregnancy. That’s what Ryan Chin Taw Cheong, an ear, nose, and throat consultant and sleep surgeon at University College London hospitals, told The Guardian.

💤

I was staying at a friend’s place when her boyfriend slept over. In the morning, I saw him on the couch and immediately thought: Oh… did they have a fight? I asked her, quietly, if everything was okay. She said yes—all good. He just snores, and she’s a light sleeper. No drama.

Later on, I listened to a podcast in which a couple explains why they sleep in separate rooms. He breathes loudly, she likes to wake up in the middle of the night to write, and it also gives them the chance to decorate their own spaces however they want. It all made me remember the idea of having a sofa bed in our studies as an alternative to having separate rooms.

I brought this idea to bed, during those quick conversations we have before falling asleep. We laughed and hugged when we realized we both love sleeping together and having a couple’s suite. We don’t have one yet, let us dream. Despite that, I don’t wake him up to come to bed when he sleeps on the couch. I take the chance to read until late, with a fireplace and some instrumental jazz looping on YouTube.

No one tells us that intimacy also sounds like snoring. I remember my father breathing like a truck engine while my mother slept in the guest room. He didn’t like it, but she did it anyway. Sleep deprivation is hell; we should take it seriously.

Although I’m not a fan of sleeping in separate bedrooms, I do think it’s wise to have another bed to retreat to, in case you or your partner snores too loudly. Or maybe you have the flu and are coughing all night. Sleeping is sacred, and building a life setup that protects it is a way to claim our power.

Maybe sleeping well isn’t just a superpower. Maybe it’s something we have to build, protect, and negotiate. In a world where male gaze already made (make) us starve, we can’t stay up all night. Things like sleeping in separate bedrooms and encouraging men to check their ear, nose, and throat health can be a form of protest, a way of claiming ourselves. We could add vasectomies to the list, why not?

After all, we need to be strong to respond whenever we feel oppressed, diminished, or simply not appreciated. We need to be up for it — energized to respond, to resist, and to take care of each other.