Y-Woman2

Separate beds at 28:
Why would a loving couple want to sleep apart?

By DIANA APPLEYARD

No more pillow fights: Colin and Laura say their sex life has improved since they started sleeping apart as they are now less tired and irritable with each other

As many as one in five British couples sleep in separate beds.

According to a recent survey, snoring, tossing and turning, and talking in your sleep were cited as the main irritants, with ever more stressful careers and lives that demand a good night's rest making us increasingly reluctant to put up with them.

But does choosing to sleep apart sound the death knell of intimacy?

Laura Mason, 28, a PR manager for a national charity, has lived with her fiance Colin Byers, 28, the manager of a coffee chain, for five years. The couple, who live in Birmingham, moved into separate beds four years ago.

Her story: Two o'clock in the morning and my head was pounding.

My eyes were itchy and dry, and my heart was beating unnaturally fast. Next to me, Colin was fast asleep, having just turned over and shaken the bed. He's 6ft 3in and weighs 15st - and he was snoring loudly in my ear.

He was also boiling hot, so every time he touched me I felt stiflingly hot, too. I lay awake knowing that tomorrow I'd have the usual high-pressure round of phone calls and meetings.

I love my job, but it's very stressful and I have to be on top of the game at all times, so I really need eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Lying there, I felt uncontrollable rage until finally I kicked Colin awake. 'Will you stop b****y moving!' I yelled.

He stared at me, confused. 'Why are you shouting?' he asked. I glared at him. Huffily, he got up and wandered off into the spare room. I felt momentarily guilty, but that soon faded. At last I could sleep. I drifted off in minutes, in the idyll of my wide, cool bed.

People look at us askance when we tell them. It seems to be the antithesis of romance, and other people's attitudes make us occasionally question our judgment - if we love each other, surely we should be able to sleep in each other's arms.

But the truth is we can't. Maybe if I didn't have such a demanding career I might be able to manage with a broken night's sleep. As it is, I can't. I cannot function meaningfully without at least eight hours' sleep.

I do miss Colin. It's odd to wake up in the night and think: 'Where is he?' It often takes me a few minutes to realise that he's in the spare room. In the depths of darkness, you can feel rather alone. But I'd rather feel lonely every now and again than permanently exhausted.

When we first got close, we slept together every night. There is something very intimate about snuggling up to your loved one, and I have shared beds with boyfriends in the past.

But I have never really liked it. I like my space, and I don't equate intimacy and love with sharing a bed.

I love our physical relationship and am perfectly happy cuddling up on the sofa, but it just doesn't work for me when I want to get to sleep.

In the early days when we were sleeping together every night, our relationship really suffered. We were both tired all the time, which meant we were snappy with each other and had far more rows.

Colin has to be at work for 6am and his typical day is very busy, too, so the sleep deprivation was really getting to both of us. I couldn't concentrate on anything and I felt incredibly stressed.

After about six months I snapped and suggested sleeping apart. Colin looked incredibly wounded, but very quickly realised how much sense it made.

I was really worried at first that we might psychologically begin to withdraw from each other and live separate lives, but that hasn't happened.

We are just as close as ever. In fact, as soon as we made the decision, our sex life improved.

We'd had a great sex life in our first year together, but having no sleep was making us too tired and irritable to crave that intimacy.

With a full night's sleep, we not only worked better, but we had more time for each other.

Evenings now follow a pattern - I usually cook a meal while Colin lays the table. We have a nice dinner, sometimes with a glass of wine, and then we either chat, watch TV or I work on the computer.

Then I might have a bath and we'll start off in the same bed. With the pressure taken off from lack of sleep, we're both far more in the mood for sex. If we don't have sex, then after a while one of us will set off for our own bed at about 11pm.

Colin can snore and roll around to his heart's content, and no longer disturbs me when he gets up in the early hours.

I read recently that men and women were never meant to sleep in the same bed.

According to Dr Neil Stanley, a sleep expert from Surrey University, it is a bizarre thing to do, as our brains are not programmed to cope with someone else's movement and noise at night.

We need to relax in silence and space to be able physically to repair and reprogramme our brain for the day ahead.

It is vital for both physical and mental health. That made me feel much better about our decision.

Friends still accuse us of being unromantic, but that's absolutely not the case. We are closer as a couple precisely because we have resolved our sleep issues.

We know we love each other - we cuddle and hold hands when we're together - but we just can't sleep together.

His story: I did feel rejected when Laura effectively ordered me out of her bed. In my mind, I have an image of a loving couple wrapped in each other's arms at night, and how can you not feel hurt when someone says they don't want that?

I also felt very defensive. It's not my fault that I snore. I also know that I am a restless sleeper, but I think there are psychological reasons behind this - I have a stressful job, and I am sure I chew things in my mind when I am asleep. That means I am forever turning over.

But when I thought about it logically, I understood that, for Laura, sleeping with me was very disruptive.

So, on a practical level, I realised that sleeping together just didn't work for us. But yes, part of me does still feel hurt.

In the beginning, we tried everything to resolve our sleeping issues. We spent £1,000 on a fabulous mattress from the White Company, another £1,000 on a super-king-size bed from The Bed Warehouse and hundreds more on pure Egyptian cotton linen sheets.

At first, we thought: 'Isn't this wonderful, all this space?' Isn't this comfortable?'

But it didn't resolve the problems - I still woke Laura up throughout the night and then, if she got up before me, she would wake me.

Normally, we aren't a couple who argue, but we were both so tired we got really tetchy with each other. I also began struggling to get to sleep in the first place.

It was just there in my subconscious - that even when I was asleep, I had to try to be quiet and not snore or turn over too often.

That was making me stressed and anxious.

It didn't help that I have a problem with my body temperature. It might be my size, but it really seems to soar at night. I like to sleep with the window wide open and the covers thrown back. Laura, on the other hand, likes to snuggle, with the window shut.

In the end, we realised that nothing but sleeping apart worked.

I had a double bed when I was eight years old, as I have always been quite big. Then my parents divorced when I was 14 and I had to move to a small single bed in my mum's new house.

I hated it and couldn't sleep, though perhaps that was because of the divorce. That's why I was worried about sleeping apart initially. There's a tiny part of your brain which thinks: 'Have I done something wrong? Is it that I am not physically attractive at night?' I know that's nonsense, but you can't help thinking it.

I do miss Laura when I wake up in the morning alone, but we make up for it with kisses and cuddles when she gets home from work.

We don't tend to talk about it to all of our friends. Although I am sure lots of other couples have this issue, they just aren't brave enough to bring it out into the open and say: 'Actually, I would be happier sleeping in my own bed.'

I'm not sure what the long-term effects might be - sometimes I wonder if not sleeping together means that we will grow apart in time.

The more space you have, physically, on your own, the more you make your own decisions and don't feel you need anyone to tell you what to do. I hope not, but only time will tell.

We make a big effort to be close to each other the rest of the time, although neither of us is clingy. I don't equate constant hugs and cuddles with love - I think friendship and fun are just as important, and, intellectually, we are very compatible.

Sleeping apart has in no way ruined our sex life - if anything, it has made it better.

First, we are less tired and have more time for each other, and there's something quite erotic in 'visiting' your partner in her bed, then going back to your own room.

Sleeping apart makes us calmer, nicer people. We have been very honest with each other and it takes a lot of reassurance to say: 'It isn't you, I just have to get a full night's sleep.'

I am looking forward to a long, happy marriage to Laura. We've just had to accept that we are not sleep compatible and make a rational decision about it. I really don't care what other people think - this works for us.

Source: The Daily Mail

How women are having 'lunchtime legs' treatment to banish ugly thread veins

Soaring numbers of women are having unsightly thread veins removed in their lunch hour.

At one chain of clinics alone, demand for the 'lunchtime legs' treatment is up by 60 per cent on this time last year.

The demand can partly be explained by the glorious weather, with women who kept their legs covered up during last year's soggy summer keen to bare all this year.

Brian Newman, a surgeon who specialises in the removal of thread veins, said it is also proving popular with active grandparents who want to look youthful on days out with their grandchildren.

The technique, properly known as thermo-coagulation, uses microwaves to zap the unsightly veins - abnormally dilated blood vessels lying very close to the surface of the skin.

An ultra-thin needle which emits a microwave current is poked under the skin in the problem area. The heat produced causes the sides of the veins to stick together, stopping the blood-flow that causes the vessels to show up red or purple.

The half-hour procedure is carried out without anaesthetic and is said to be no more painful than eyebrow plucking.

Mr Newman said: 'You can come in in your lunch hour and have it done. You can do what you like afterwards.' Up to six sessions, costing up to £350, could be necessary for the most stubborn veins.

Practitioners say the procedure, which is not available on the NHS, is cheaper and more accurate then laser surgery.

Mr Newman, who developed thermo-coagulation and has trained surgeons around the world in the technique, said it could also be used to melt away veins on the face.

This could free some male patients from the embarrassment of being mistaken as having a drink problem.

'Men who have got large nose veins are often wrongly dismissed as drinkers,' said Mr Newman. 'Often, these people are completely teetotal. They are tearful at the end of the procedure because for years they have been regarded as a drunk.'

Thread veins often occur after pregnancy or the menopause and tend to worsen with age. Although usually a cosmetic problem, they can signal a thyroid disorder.

Updated 16.09.2009

SUMMER 2009 BEACHWEAR

What really DOES turn women on?

By MAUREEN RICE

So is a successful and driven career woman more likely to have a high sex drive than her lesser-achieving sisters?

That was the conclusion drawn from research published this week which showed that women with high levels of testosterone are more likely to be risk-takers - and to have stronger sexual appetites.

It's just the latest piece in the jigsaw of the female libido, an enigma that now feeds a multi-million pound industry, with battalions of 'sexperts' racing to uncover the magic formula that will deliver the gift of better sex for all.

But it's also a battleground, with experts at war with each other over whether 'sexy' for a woman begins in her body or her brain.

Over the past decade - ironically, since the launch of Viagra for men had the unexpected side-effect of making drug treatments for sex a hot new market for both genders - millions of pounds have been poured into researching the female libido.

It has uncovered some big surprises and some baffling dead-ends. While male desire tends to be straightforward, a woman's sex drive is a complicated, multi-layered thing.

That said, some women, just like some men, do seem to have a naturally higher sex drive than others. The research just published in the U.S. would seem to back that up, showing that this may well be linked to hormones, and to testosterone in particular.

Women with high levels of testosterone are much more likely to be ambitious and assertive and to choose traditionally male careers in business and finance. They're also likely to want more sex (low levels of testosterone have been shown to produce the opposite effect).

'Eureka!' shout the biologists. This shows that female desire, like male, is rooted in body chemistry.

Simplistic rubbish, respond the psychotherapists.

They believe that female desire is made up of physical, emotional, social and relationship factors. If you have poor body image, an uptight family background, bad early sexual experiences or a partner who is insensitive, lazy or just not that nice, then your sex drive very likely would take a nose-dive.

Who's right, then? Let's just consider the subject these experts are spending so much time and money to argue about, using real examples from a group of women who agreed to talk honestly about their sex lives.

Susan, is 48, slim and attractive and happily married. Well, quite happily. 'To be honest. I don't care if I never have sex again,' she admits. 'I only do it to keep Gary happy'.

Monica is 35 and also uninterested in sex with her long-time partner, but feels ' overwhelming feelings of desire' for a colleague at work with whom she is having an affair.

Lucy is 54 and has the opposite problem to Susan. 'Since my late 40s, I've had the wonderful experience of a late-blossoming sex drive, and I absolutely love it.'

Claire is 24 and in a new relationship with Tom: 'We spend days at a time in bed. It makes me feel very close to him, but I also like the feeling of sexual power it gives me.'

Helen, who is 32, isn't interested in sexual power. 'I've got a full-time job and two children under five. I don't even think about sex.'

It's clear from just this handful of examples that female sexual desire is as various and unique as women themselves.

But, nonetheless, there are some inescapable biological factors. The study of hormones and their effect on everything from our personalities and behaviour to the functioning of our bodies has been the focus in recent sex research.

Source: Mail on Sunday [September 2009]

Sex & The Teenage Girl

Teen girls flock to see the film "Twilight" because it explores the adolescent conflict between wanting to have sex for the first time and wanting to remain pure. Without openly expressing any of this, the movie delves into issues of desire and abstinence

Edward [the vampire] is the kind of guy young girls dream about. He's the ultimate bad boy: moody, anti-social, and literally dangerous. He also has a tender side, and Bella is the only one allowed to see it. This drives her crazy with desire.

The big, scary vampire dude - who could slaughter anyone of his choosing - looks at her and sees someone so extraordinary that it makes him want to be a better (undead) person.

This is an idea that fills Bella with addictive feelings of power and special-ness. Like many a real-life teen girl, she is seduced by the thought of a bad boy being so completely into her that he wants to change his stripes.

His undying "need" for her makes Bella feel better about her admittedly awkward self. One gets the impression that, were it not for Edward, she might eventually become the kind of woman who writes love letters to men on Death Row.

Edward's desire to drink Bella's blood is, obviously, a metaphor for his desire to bed her. He's got crazy hormones for Bella, and his every moment is consumed with thoughts of how much he wants her.

By asking him to drink her blood, Bella is suggesting a willingness to "go all the way."

So high does Edward make her feel that she virtually throws herself at him with reckless abandon, despite his repeated warnings that it would really be better for them to remain apart.

The repercussions don't matter; she desperately wants to be taken. She's a willing partner.

Simply put, "Twilight" is about the fear of sex. A heady topic, to be sure. Just as teen boys peruse Playboy to investigate the mysteries of their burgeoning sexuality, teen girls read "Twilight" to explore the common adolescent conflict between wanting to have sex for the first time and wanting to remain pure.

Without ever openly expressing any of this, Meyer delves into issues of desire, abstinence, and the nervousness of making the life-changing choice to give into your passions.

Bella at one point begs Edward to go ahead and do it; if she too becomes a vampire, then she will be immortal, allowing them to spend eternity together.

Edward is the kind of guy young girls dream about. He's the ultimate bad boy: moody, anti-social, and literally dangerous. He also has a tender side, and Bella is the only one allowed to see it. This drives her crazy with desire.

The big, scary vampire dude - who could slaughter anyone of his choosing - looks at her and sees someone so extraordinary that it makes him want to be a better (undead) person.

So high does Edward make her feel that she virtually throws herself at him with reckless abandon, despite his repeated warnings that it would really be better for them to remain apart. The repercussions don't matter; she desperately wants to be taken. She's a willing partner.

He refuses to partake of her. Edward sees Bella as being so precious and so extraordinary that he doesn't want to ruin it by "turning" her. We can infer from her self-description as a romantic loser that Bella is a virgin.

When he won't drink her blood, Edward is really saying that he does not want to rob Bella of her virginity. He feels that she deserves something more than the "usual treatment" other girls might get. He also fears what might happen if he does deflower her. In real life, those fears would be unwanted pregnancy or perhaps an STD (or, at the very least, getting caught by Mom and Dad).

In "Twilight," they are expressed as pain as vampire venom snakes through her veins, as well as a permanent, irreparable loss of her humanity.