Smaller houses and apartments don’t stop many Japanese couples from sleeping in different beds or even rooms. This is not some kind of an intimate issue or problem with the relationship, but something that they believe is good for them.
We at Bright Side found out why married couples in Japan choose to sleep separately, and we really like their reasons.
They have different sleep schedules.

The first thing that makes Japanese couples decide to go to bed separately is different work schedules. Waking up your significant other just because you got home late from work or have to leave early won’t result in good quality rest for them. This is why spending the night in a different room makes sense. This will give them both an undisturbed and healthier sleep.
Babies sleep with their mothers.

Japanese mothers sleep with their children and this is considered very important, so the father needs to decide if he wants to share the same bed or go to a different room. Even science has proven that co-sleeping can help parents and children get a more restful sleep. It helps the child to maintain a stable temperature and heart rate (which is really critical in infancy) and at the same time, it decreases the chance of sudden infant death syndrome. Also, this contributes to the child having better self-esteem, becoming independent faster, and doing great in school.
For them, sleeping separately means peace.

While many couples who start to sleep alone think that divorce is at their door, the Japanese see it differently. They value their sleep a lot and they don’t want to be disturbed while sleeping. This means that they don’t need and don’t like to put up with snoring, restless sleep, kicking, etc. Even though some don’t have the opportunity to sleep in different rooms, they still wish they could get their beauty sleep.
Couples have a history of sleeping separately.
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Futons are filled with cotton, which provides support and comfort. In the past, only single sized ones were used as beds. So, even if you wanted to cuddle up with your loved one, you would have ended up between the sheets, on the cold floor, and you wouldn’t feel comfortable. Today there are families that still use this type of bedding, especially because it doesn’t take up a lot of space and it is easy to store.
Do you sleep separately from your partner? Do you think this type of practice might be even better for your relationship?
I’m a second-grade teacher, and some days, my students teach me the most important lessons.

The morning sun streamed through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow on the colorful drawings and neatly arranged desks. But the brightness couldn’t quite chase away the cloud that settled over my second-grade class when Lily walked in, her small face etched with a sadness that seemed too heavy for her young shoulders.
As we began our morning routine, the usual chatter and rustling of papers faded into an uneasy silence. Lily, her voice trembling, announced to the room, “My parents are going to court today. For custody.”
Her words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the complexities that even the youngest among us face. “I’m scared they’re going to make me choose,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.
My heart ached for her. I wanted to scoop her up and shield her from the pain, but all I could do was offer a reassuring smile and a gentle hug. “It’s going to be okay, Lily,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’re here for you.”
I gently steered the class towards our morning activity, hoping to provide a brief distraction, a moment of normalcy amidst the turmoil. But the weight of Lily’s words lingered, a quiet undercurrent of worry that permeated the room.
A while later, I noticed Lily huddled near the cubbies, her small frame shaking with sobs. She was tightly embracing another student, a boy named Noah, whose own eyes were filled with tears. Alarmed, I rushed over, fearing something had happened.
But as I approached, I saw a small, crumpled note clutched in Lily’s hand. I gently unfolded it, and my breath caught in my throat. In Noah’s shaky, uneven handwriting, it read:
“Don’t worry. Whatever happens, it’s in God’s hands.”
The simplicity and profound wisdom of those words struck me like a physical blow. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I had to turn away for a moment, overwhelmed by the depth of compassion these two young children displayed.
In that moment, I realized that I wasn’t just teaching these children; they were teaching me. They were showing me the true meaning of empathy, the power of faith, and the unwavering strength of human connection.
Noah, in his innocent understanding, had offered Lily the only comfort he knew, a reminder that even in the face of uncertainty, there was something bigger than their fears. Lily, in her vulnerability, had allowed herself to be comforted, trusting in the sincerity of her friend’s words.
As I drove home that day, my heart was full, my eyes still damp with tears. I was so proud of the small, loving community we had built in our classroom, a sanctuary where even the most vulnerable felt safe and supported.
These children, barely old enough to tie their own shoes, had shown me that the greatest wisdom often resides in the smallest hearts. They reminded me that even in a world filled with complexity and pain, there is always room for compassion, for faith, and for the unwavering power of love. And that some of the greatest lessons in life, are taught by the ones we least expect.
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