I sleep in a separate bed from my husband and it's changed our marriage in ways I never expected.

I enter my dimly lit bedroom and tuck myself into bed. I grab a book from the pile on my nightstand and check my phone. I text my husband, "Did you turn off the lights downstairs?"

He replies: "I am."

I text him: "OK, good night."

He replies, "I love you."

My husband is in the guest room, and I'm in the master bedroom - our room, that is. We haven't had a fight. We're not doing any separation under the same roof. We're not getting divorced. What we get is a dream. And a magnificent one.

When I explain our sleep schedule to curious people, I'm often met with sideways glances and judgment.

As if the way we sleep has anything to do with our love for each other or our intimacy. We started sleeping separately when I woke up at 3am yet again to his loud snoring. I nudged my husband, hoping he would stop if he turned on his side. It didn't work.

So I sighed angrily and grumbled, hoping to wake him. He didn't wake up. Then I turned on my side, turning my back on him, shaking the entire mattress. Then he woke up. Every night the same battle was fought while we slept together.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Your snoring is driving me crazy! I can't sleep!" "I don't snore." "Oh, God, are you serious? Of course you snore. And all night long. Do you want me to film you? You do it every night, you know that. I'm going to sleep in the guest room."

I ripped my pillow off the bed and shoved it under my arm so hard that the pillowcase snapped like a whip. Then I grabbed my phone, muttered a few more curses, and marched to the spare room. I admit it: I'm a light sleeper and always have been. But I refuse to be subjected to our sleepless environment.

I refuse to let him keep me up night after night just because he's my husband. This problem has a solution, and the solution is sleeping separately. So one night became three, three became a week, and I slept better than I ever had before, even if it was in the guest room.

Every night I would sip my herbal tea, spread my legs across the bed in the guest room, and scatter my books, laptop, headphones, and glasses across the soft duvet. It was great and all, but it still wasn't my bed. So we started arguing about who would get the guest room and who would get our bedroom.

Our bedroom is a space I designed as a sanctuary.

I spent hours searching for the perfect furniture, bedding, wall art, and even lighting for our bedroom. It's the most relaxing, zen place in the whole house.

I feel instantly beautiful when I lie down in bed and am surrounded by its soothing color palette. I feel almost divine when my skin touches the luxurious sheets that I spent more than I should have. Honestly, I feel like a queen in my bed.

"Snoring is your problem," I told my husband. "It's not fair that I should be moved out of our bed because it's technically your fault."

"I travel a lot and when I get home, I just want to sleep in my bed," he whined.

"No, you're the one snoring," I snapped.

"Come on, we can take turns."

"Okay," I said exhaustedly.

So we started switching from week to week. It's been months since we started this unconventional sleep schedule, and the truth is we both sleep better. He says he misses me and even makes sad puppy dog ​​eyes when we retire to our own beds, but for the most part we both like uninterrupted sleep.

There is a stigma attached to couples who choose to sleep in separate rooms.

Sleeping in separate beds has been given the negative name "sleep divorce." But sometimes it's not that deep or that serious. I just can't sleep next to my snoring husband. Our intimate life has remained the same. We still love each other. We're still happily married. Probably one of the reasons we're so happily married is that we sleep in separate rooms.

Not getting enough sleep is not acceptable to me. As a working mother of two school-age daughters, I need sleep. I turn into an angry monster if I don't get enough sleep.

I've already paid my debts to sleep deprivation. I had children. I got up constantly with them when they were little, and for years I struggled to fall back asleep because of my husband's snoring.

I was a complete zombie and that was it. I ended up living a perpetual life of sleep deprivation, except for the occasional childhood nightmare, vomiting, or occasional bedwetting.

Couples sleep in separate rooms for a number of reasons, and snoring is one of the biggest. This includes partners who have different work schedules, as well as those who have trouble grabbing the bed or blanket.

And yet, for some absurd reason, we act as if couples who sleep in separate beds are showing the first signs of a failing relationship headed for divorce. For many couples, it's simply a matter of organization.

I understand that this doesn't work for everyone and is considered unconventional in many ways. For us, this sleep schedule really has nothing to do with the state of our marriage. We're stable, we just need space and sleep. Everyone needs sleep.

The author's works have been published in magazines and portals such as Cosmopolitan, Redbook Magazine, Good Housekeeping, The Huffington Post, Scary Mommy and Bustle.