Ok, before I get too far into this, I realize that the title may be misleading. The simple act of sleeping naked is truly not complicated: remove clothes, get into bed, go to sleep.
There, post done. See you next month!
Except, with me, things are rarely that simple. But I am here today to declare to you (and apparently the entire internet) that I sleep naked….most of the time. For me, this is approaching a seismic shift in both habit and sense of self. Let me explain. I have issues with snoring and keeping my partner up at night after reading zyppah snoring review, I decided to get one and it has helped a ton.
For most of my life, I have slept in a t-shirt and underwear. While I own a fair number of cute PJs, I rarely sleep in them because I am a hot sleeper and sleeping in pants is pretty much a guaranteed trip to waking up drenched in sweat. So for years, t-shirt and underwear have served me quite well. That is until my current boyfriend came onto the scene. You see, he’s a naked sleeper. And completely comfortable that way. There are many, many things I could tell you that make this man wonderful but I have little interest in boring you with those details at this time. But what is important for this piece is to understand about him the observation my mother made about him upon their first meeting – “he is very comfortable in his own skin.” And he truly is. And for a girl who has spent the vast majority of her life anything but comfortable in her own skin – this is rather refreshing!
Now, I am a grown woman with complete agency over my clothing choices so I could absolutely continue with my t-shirt/underwear uniform and go about my business but what I have learned over the last few months is that I kind of like sleeping naked, specially now that I own a new mattress from the Mattress City.
But how did I get here?
The first night we spent together, I had dressed somewhat strategically. We had agreed that our first overnight would be a specific Friday in December. We were going to an outdoor Christmas light display at a local arboretum and then to dinner. I had to dress in layers given the weather but the core was a tank top. When it came time for bed and all that included, I was able to keep my tank top on and still enjoy our evening together. And it followed that way for the next few times we spent the night together until one night when all of clothes came off and by the time we fell asleep, I was naked. And I stayed that way.
Then came morning. Now I had a problem. I had to get out of bed and go to the bathroom and I had to accomplish this….naked. Now for a girl who has spent an untold and sad amount of energy hating her body – this ……was…..terrifying. I’m pretty sure the last time my breasts were anything approaching perky, Ronald Reagan was still president. And my stomach? Well, it looks like the stomach of a woman who was once much heavier than she is now. In short, the idea of standing up, naked in front of this man with whom I was falling in love was quite terrifying. But then biology took over and well, I had to go to the bathroom or risk something even more embarrassing than standing up naked in front of a man I had just spent the night with. So I went to the bathroom. And the world kept spinning on its axis. And when I returned to bed, I was admonished for leaving the bed and ordered to get right back in to cuddle.
While I saw every lump, bump, dimple and flaw in my body, he saw a woman who was soft and cuddly and who he wanted back in his bed as quickly as possible.
From that day on, the ritual of going to bed included the removal of all of my clothes….as long as I was with him.
Once I was home alone? Back into my t-shirt/underwear uniform. Until one day that I noticed that the leg band of my underwear dug into my hip as I slept. And that my t-shirt rode up my stomach and gathered right below my breasts in a way that made me wake up in the middle of the night to readjust it. I am sure I have been dealing with/doing this subtle dance for years and years but until I allowed myself the freedom of removing these pieces of clothing, I never quite realized that I was doing that.
So one night as I got into my own bed, by myself, I took off all of my clothes and snuggled in. Now, it wasn’t nearly as nice as the nights I shared a bed with my boyfriend. Those nights include cuddling and kissing and many other things that are far better than sleeping alone. But there I was, alone and naked in my own bed. And I was comfortable.
I texted my boyfriend to let him know that this naked thing had bled over into my time alone and he noted just how much better sleeping naked was and for the first time, I had to agree with him. And now? Most of the time I sleep naked. There are days I keep a t-shirt on. I have this somewhat irrational fear of my house burning down and having to run outside with the cats and Puppy (my 42 year old stuffed animal, don’t judge) and then finding myself outside, house ablaze with no pants on. But most of the time, I am able to let that go and actually be comfortable. In my own skin, without clothes on.
I'm a single lady living in the suburbs of Philadelphia with 2 cats named Leo and Toby (after characters on "The West Wing" - one day I will have the ability to recite the entire series by heart.That's a noble goal, yes?).
I've had a varied career doing a bunch of technical stuff that isn't that interesting to folks who aren't doing it but my real passion is writing.I also get the fabulous pleasure of coaching people from time to time and that brings me amazing joy and energy.
If you want to hang with me there are things you should know:I curse.A lot.I like hoppy beer.A lot.I like big and deep red wines. A lot. I adore my friends.A lot, a lot.I am passionate about politics (or a big geek about them - you choose).I'm an accidental but rather passionate Unitarian and few things make me happier than my dining room table surrounded by people I love.And picking paint colors, let's not forget that. Find me online here.