i’ve been thinking a lot about intimacy lately, and in particular, my snoring.
most people don’t know this about me until they share a bed with me. but those who do know that i’m a loud snorer. it’s embarrassing to admit! but i am! it’s from a lifetime of chronic sinus issues and just having a very bad nose in general. and from being a mouth-breather in sleep. (if i may overshare: i had secret (non-cosmetic) surgery for it in 2014 but that hasn’t particularly helped)
being a loud snorer has made me think a lot about my intimacy issues. because, the thing is, in my last relationship, she was the snorer and messy sleeper. i was the quiet, unmoving sleeper. she was the one who woke me up in the middle of the night and i sometimes had to roll over so the snoring got softer.
the point of this is not to put my ex on blast. rather, it’s that three years after that relationship, the tables have turned. i’m now the chronic snorer who wakes up everyone i share a bed with.
i first learned of my snoring when i had to share a bed with my (very light sleeper) of a best friend. she woke me up in the middle of the night with a “is there a position you don’t snore in?” and when awake, we agreed to not share a bed again. usually, we now try to get two bedrooms when we go somewhere together.
i’m more confident sharing a bed with someone i know who snores. something like a - i won’t wake you, because you’re snoring too! - always makes me feel better.
the issue arises when i have to share a bed with someone new for the first time.
usually, it’s someone i’m seeing. things are going well, we’re going on dates, i’m impressively charismatic and wearing a cute outfit. i’ve probably chosen a cute wine bar and have explained the menu. you know.
the issue then comes when i invite her/them over for a cuddle. or a make out. which turns into bed. which is then three a.m. and either me kicking them out or them actively making a move to feed their dog/go back to residential queens/because they have an early start the next day and need to be in their neighborhood.
part of the reason - and i’m putting myself on blast here - i’ve been so reticent about sharing a bed with paramours (and kick them out at three a.m.) is not because i have intimacy issues - though you might feel differently after this substack. it’s because i’m afraid my earth-shattering snores will make them see me differently.
also, it’s just flat-out embarrassing to be the snorer. it’s embarrassing to wake up in the morning and roll over and be like, “how’d you sleep?” and the other person has to be like, “fine,” when your snoring kept them up all night.
also, it’s embarrassing because i look like a daisy. but apparently sleep like an elephant preparing for a showdown.
i guess there’s intimacy, which is closeness, a kind of familiarity, a kind of emotional proximity that feels good and is supportive. but then there’s intimacy. which is how someone sounds when they come, or when they’re almost there. or how someone sleeps - the sounds they make, how much of the blanket they steal. the intimacy that’s the scariest is allowing someone to see the parts of us we can’t control.
i think ick culture actually brings that to the surface. i hate the concept of the ick because it often emphasizes the things people can’t control - how we look like when we sneeze, the weird speech inflections we pick up from the people around us, the stutter we’ve had since we were children. it emphasizes that there’s a way for someone to dislike us/be turned off by us based on something tiny and simple we can’t control.
there’s apparently “sleep etiquette,” which is the weirdest thing ever because we all wish we could be the person who sleeps quietly and unmoving and doesn’t hog the blanket. but it’s not within our control how we sleep! and so i’ve been worried that my snoring is a huge ick - because it is, or it could be.
i know people are like - for the right person, it won’t matter, etc etc. the issue is, i might never have someone stay the night ever again. and part of realizing someone is “the right person” is nights on nights of sleepovers. and if i’m never okay with letting someone sleep over because i’m always insecure that my snoring is a huge ick, how am i ever going to get there? you can tell me the solution to this impossible problem.
this is, admittedly, a vulnerable thing to be admitting to an audience. but i’m bringing it up because of this:
i think the intimacy of a long-term relationship or marriage - which one can argue is the intimacy that brings up the most discomfort because everything is shared/known from a bed to finances to like how you pick your nose and where you stick the snot - is built from a lot of annoyance. we all have things we are annoyed by! people who are light sleepers but whose partners are snorers should all raise their hands here, please! people who are insecure about their finances and letting someone else see them, raise your hands too, please!
but anyway, we all have things we’re annoyed by. what about our brains, then, makes the switch from ew, what an ick, to, it’s annoying, but it’s fine? like, there’s a logical leap there. there’s absolutely a leap that differentiates being turned off by someone and no longer dating them, to being so enamored with someone/close to someone as a friend that their snoring is fine even if it annoys you.
i don’t have the answer to what that is. like a good philosophy paper, my job here is not to change the world with all the answers. my job is just to point out: anything can be an ick. what makes you love someone anyway, despite all the things that are not innately pleasant, like snoring? and how, in an ick-obsessed internet culture famous for putting dating stories on blast, can we get to the latter?