Kendall Gilding on getting a sleep divorce

We’ve reached the time of year in Queensland where more and more couples are contemplating a divorce in the bedroom, and Kendall Gilding is among them.

Kendall Gilding shares her issues on sleep. Picture: Richard Walker

We’ve reached the time of year in Queensland where more and more couples are contemplating a divorce. Not a literal divorce, but a sleep divorce.

Why do you ask? Because overnight the temperature is sitting roughly 10 degrees higher than it does in winter and it seems we all want different conditions while we sleep.

I’ve been married for almost 12 years, but it still shocks me when we have an argument, sorry a discussion, at bedtime about whether we’ll have the fan on, the airconditioning, or nothing at all.

I grew up in Cairns in the ’90s. The humidity there in the peak of summer is so thick you could carve it with a knife.

No one had aircon in those days. Instead, we’d pump the fans to their highest setting, take a cold shower, then lie under the windy blast hoping to cool down enough to fall asleep.

I’m not sure they make fans quite that good any more? Their sheer force, working in tandem across the whole house, should have been enough to lift the roof off.

My husband on the other hand grew up in Brisbane, in a brick home, with such low ceilings there wasn’t a single fan installed in the whole house. So just the idea of breeze blowing on his face will make him turn red.

Perhaps these are the real questions we should be asking in our premarital counselling to know exactly who we’re getting into bed with?

Kendall Gilding shares her sleep issues. Photo: Laz Smith.

When I was a child, I had a few friends whose parents didn’t share a bed.

I always thought it odd when I’d go for a sleepover and see that they each had their own room. “Don’t they like each other?” I’d think. Now I realise I misunderstood. It’s because they liked each other that they didn’t share a bed.

The older I get, the more I’m told by people that we “MUST get a kingsize bed – it will change your life”. Or even better – a double king. Countless couples are lapping up endless space at night and never bumping into their partner. Sounds nice, but what about the aircon and fan? It’s not going to solve that problem.

Confession: my sleep utopia is eight to 10 hours a night. And provided I’m not getting up for The Today Show at 2am – I’m likely to get the full 10 hours. Sleep hygiene has always been hugely important to me. Even with my children.

I had two babies who slept through the night from a few months old, and they’ve never stopped overachieving in the sleep stakes.

Kendall Gilding on her divided opinions with her husband on their sleep. Picture: Richard Walker

So imagine my horror when as a grown up, in full control of my life and decisions, I’m finding myself having rotten sleep.

Unfortunately for women, our core body temperature can vary greatly at different stages throughout the month. (Heaven help those going through peri-menopause or menopause)

So, there’s some weeks where I’m confident my body is running at five degrees hotter than my husband’s.

He’ll be the first to notice because I’ll manically throw the sheets off in the middle of the night, while huffing and puffing and tossing and turning.

In a perfect world I’d like the room cooled with airconditioning – to cut out the humidity. Plus the fan on the lowest setting – for a little bit of flow. I’d then sleep under a doona – because the weight of bedding is scientifically proven to increase your contentment.

Don’t get me wrong – some nights I get exactly what I want. Some nights my husband gets the exact conditions he wants. Marriage is about compromise after all. But rather than jostling in discomfort on the nights it’s not your turn – maybe there’s wisdom in separate rooms?

But perhaps the biggest hurdle is that I really like my husband. When he was hospitalised in December our bed felt awfully big and lonely.

We may snore, elbow each other in the face, and rock the whole bed when rolling over, but the alternative leaves me wide-eyed and unable to sleep.

I can always count on winter to simmer tensions. Our 100-year-old Queenslander home will resemble the inside of a freezer.

A chilling draft blowing through each room, despite no ceiling fans in use. The remedy – a thick doona, warm pyjamas and blissful, cosy sleep for everyone in the one bed.

Let’s see if we’ve upgraded to a king size by then?