Hear me out.
Now before you start thinking I’m some kind of monster who doesn’t appreciate the warm embrace of skins versus jammies, let me be clear: cuddling is amazing. In fact, I can’t think of many activities that surpass being the little spoon in a spooning sitch. Any warm-blooded human knows the little spoon position is where you are the warm and happy center of the universe.
But the keyword here is warm, not overheated like the blazing, rash-inducing heat of the Sahara Desert. Not like sweating underneath the weight of all three blankets and your significant other. Not like prying the dead weight of his dreamy biceps off of my face at 3 a.m. Holy moly, I'm steamin' up over here! I'm a sweltering 98.6 degrees of pure contempt.
It’s not personal. It’s about me and my relationship with the REM cycle. It’s about the freedom to hang my foot over the edge of the bed. It’s about my right as your gal pal to wake up and carefully position myself to look as pretty as humanly possible (which, in the morning is not that pretty anyway) as you open your eyes.
None of these things can be accomplished unless I am free to move about the bed. So remember: cuddling has a time and place. A place like the couch. A time like our next Netflix marathon.