Lesson 6: Sleep With Him. Just Don’t Sleep Over. Not Until You’re Ready.

Of all my relationship memories, the ones that stand out the most have little to do with sex, vacations, events, pizza or “real” life for that matter. The images that are firmly imprinted in my mind I have no photographs of. They’ve never been described in an entertaining story told to friends or journal entries for myself. Yet, the connections associated with bedtime and sleeping next to someone—spooning, snoring, sheet-stealing, puppy breath and all—have stayed with me longer than the length of the relationships.

I’ve always believed that your sleeping (subconscious) relationship mirrors your conscious relationship. Sleep is where all your “stuff” about yourself, and in effect your relationship, surfaces, i.e., intimacy issues, blah blah… But I also believe that sleep is where your subconscious can triumph over the conscious mind, and allow your “real” self and needs to expose themselves. It’s like when someone with sleep issues finally sleeps soundly next to a new partner.

Of course, this clearly explains the fear of “sleeping over” in a new relationship. Fear which can sometimes translate to courage as seen in my friend, Frank’s case. After the dirty deed, he would very politely ask his new partner to sleep on the couch. The mensch could never actually ask her to leave.

Many years ago I was dating Pierre, a Frenchman. After dating a little while, he finally acquiesced to the "sleep over". In our first few months sleeping next to each other, he refused to have any part of his body come into contact with mine. I remember living in fear that I would accidently graze his ankle with my foot in the middle if the night and he would scream in horror, waking the neighbors who would call the cops. I knew our relationship had progressed once his body was wrapped around mine as we fell asleep. He was finally vulnerable to me. Yet he remained the prick with intimacy issues in real life. But at least in bed, he belonged to me. Not sure if that was great, but a consolation prize I valued. I guess we spend so much of our lives sleeping that if we are cherished for that part of it, that’s a lot. Isn’t it?

Actually I find the whole sleeping together thing quite heartbreaking. For a very long time, I thought that spending the night together after sex, the most intimate of acts, was a normal, mandatory thing. It wasn’t until recently that I realized that “the spending the night together” part was actually a million times more intimate. So I eventually stopped spending the night and asked people to leave. I finally knew what it was like to be a dude.

It hasn’t occurred to me until recently that the hardest part of my breakups have been leaving the sleep relationships. In bed with a partner, I never felt lonely. The rituals were natural and always comforting. I enjoyed someone stealing my pillows, sleeping on someone else’s wrist, breathing my sweet puppy breath on someone, keeping someone up with insipid chatter…

So now I have a sleep partner I adore. When he’s sweaty, I push him over. When I pull his arm, he spoons me. When I ask him to sing me to sleep, he tells me he knows no songs and I sing the Star Spangled Banner. There’s a whole system worked out, which for me is a microcosm of our relationship.

Sleep is intimate stuff. My advice: Don’t jump into it until you’re good and ready.

I’m quoting a doctor in a recent NY Times article: “Even though we may take sleeping with our partner for granted, it’s through these kinds of shared social systems that we build and nurture our relationships, and perhaps uncover the underlying meaning of our lives.”

Lesson 5: Don’t Fall For the Accent

Accents are sexy. But so are 5-inch stilettos. They’re both dangerous and bad ideas. And trust me I know. As a reformed Francophile and general Europhile (and clutz) prone to falling deeply in love with anyone who I couldn’t understand, I know too well the needless drama involved with dating men of mystery.

Here’s the first thing that I always resented: They know they’re hot. So they automatically have an edge over you. And the thing is, you’re pathetically helpless. So as you’re drooling over him during your dinner of salad Nicoise, Frenchie knows you want him. The Spaniard calls you after three weeks of unreturned calls and you drop everything to meet her. The Italian cheats on you, makes up a story about pity sex with his ex and you forgive him. The whole thing is just unbearable. When did an accent become a reusable get-out-of-jail-free-card?

You may be asking yourself how different is a Swedish hottie from the Texan-accented sweetie? Loads. The Swede has a whole other life in another language that you will probably never know—even with years of dedication to Rosetta Stone. Never. Which might be fine and sexy for a while. But in the long run, the meatballs get tiresome. And well, Tex, at least, you can pretend to kind of understand when you’re drunk!

I’m not saying that there’s no chance in having a good relationship with foreign-accented guy/girl. Of course, it’s possible. You just have to step back from the relationship and see if it’s just the mystery, or accent, that’s keeping your weak self from dumping her.

At the tender age of 24, I was very much in my francophilic years. I had just come out of a tormenting relationship with a psychopathic Parisian actor and after a long recovery, I went back to Europe, looking for a replacement. I was traveling through French-speaking Switzerland when I met a sweet Swiss-French/Spanish boy, Miguel. Miguel did not speak a lick of English. To no one’s surprise here, it was love at first sight. With my high-school Spanish, we tried pathetically to communicate as we traveled through Spain together. He would whisper something about potato omelettes in my ear and I would swoon. Eventually, I went back home to New York but a couple miserable months later, I decided to move to Geneva to be with him and work on my even-more-sorry French. Despite everything I’ve said about people with sexy accents, I don’t totally believe sexy accent = bad people. Miguel was actually a lovely person. But the funny thing is that as my French language skills improved over six months, I found him less and less attractive. We broke up. After learning a painful, prolonged lesson about accents, I went home to date more boys with accents.

So who am I to tell you what to do? I was suckered for years and years. Until I was over it. And now I date a Southerner I can mostly understand: ) Anyhow, date as many accents as you want. Get it out of your system. Just don’t get too distracted to recognize that dog doo in francais or espanol or italiano is still dog doo.

LESSON 4: Be Grateful for the Fade-Out

A few winters ago I was fixed up by a friend of mine. The guy was a magazine publisher, Jack, and we hit it off on our first date. Lightning didn’t strike or anything but we liked each other and we made a second date a week later. Again, good date. He took me to Artisanal and we had great fondue with lots of fine cheese. What’s not to like? Our third date the next week was plain awkward. To provide a little bit of context, we had not gone further than kissing on the corner hailing separate cabs at the end of our dates. And that’s precisely what happened at the end of the evening of our really strange third date. Anyway, I was hoping to never hear from him again. I certainly wasn’t gonna contact him. There was no need to confirm the obvious. I WANTED the fade-out.

So what happens? He emails me and explicitly states that he doesn’t think we would work out. Um, really? No kidding. Ughhh. I was so mad. How did he get off “breaking up” with me? Weren’t we supposed to let this go gracefully? Did he really need to confirm the obvious? Jeez, I could’ve wrote him the same email but DIDN’T. Because it WASN’T necessary. We hadn’t emailed in a few days, we didn’t sleep together, he was a brother of a friend of a friend… it was NOT necessary to REJECT me. And as gentlemanly as I’m sure he thought he was being, he actually looked like a big fat jerk. So in that instance, ladies and gentlemen, not fading-out was a jerk move.

Yes, I fully support the fade-out—in any non-serious dating situation. I am not a sadist nor masochist. I think when it’s pretty clear the feelings aren’t there and there are no obligations, the fade-out is the BEST way out. Why suffer the needless drama and feelings associated with rejection/rejecting? WHY? Really now. Who needs it?

Ok, but what happens when you really like someone who is fading you out? First consideration: does this person have any obligations to you? Let’s define obligations. For me, it’s if you’ve been dating “seriously” (whatever you mean by that) for over a couple of months. (But of course, this is another post topic to be tackled later.)

If there is no obligation then well, you call him once/twice to follow up. And if there’s no response after your attempts, that person is a jerk plain and simple. But he is a kind jerk. Really, did you need an explanation? What would it do for you but make you question your self-worth and obsess over every little step/misstep of your short-lived relationship? This person is NOT for you, that’s it. Trust me on this. As my very wise friend Peter says, “Your true love won’t reject you.” This I believe. If you need a reason, chalk it up to the ex or her job or “bad timing”—which I think is always a big factor. Whatever, it’s probably not personal. And if it is, who cares? It’s his problem. Not yours. You’re now extricated from a relationship with no future. How great is that?

So what happens if you’re being faded-out by someone who really owes you more? Well, you hunt her down and pelt her with frozen marshmallows. Just kidding. This person is not a kind jerk but a jerk-jerk of the worst kind. This fade-out I don’t approve of. It’s a lousy, cowardly thing to do. And you do not want to be involved with a coward. Of course, you aren’t necessarily a coward if you do cowardly things. But after you call/email/text him a few too many times and there are no/few adequate responses. You’ve got yourself a coward that you can kiss goodbye. And the break-up was probably long overdue anyway.