Why Do Married Couples in Japan Sleep Separately

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.

© Shutterstock.com© Shutterstock.com

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?

No One Stopped to Pick Up This Old Man near the Highway & after an Hour I Understood Why – Story of the Day

When Rebecca and her daughter, Layla, set off on a trip, they didn’t anticipate the journey would challenge their views on kindness. An unexpected encounter with a stranded man forced Rebecca to confront her fears, leading to a life-changing lesson taught by her brave young daughter.

My name is Rebecca, and I was the kind of person who usually stayed on the sidelines when witnessing injustice or when someone needed help.

I was always afraid to stand out and hoped that someone else would help or stand up against the injustice.

Anyone but me. But that day, I acted differently, and it changed my life forever.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

It was a sunny Friday morning. Layla and I were heading to my mom’s house for the weekend. Layla, my eight-year-old daughter, sat in the front seat beside me.

She looked out the window, her face pressed against the glass, clearly upset about the long drive.

The road stretched ahead, and I could see her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she let out a heavy sigh every few minutes.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” I asked, glancing over at her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“I’m bored, Mom,” she replied, not taking her eyes off the passing scenery. “This drive is taking forever.”

I understood her frustration. We had been on the road for over two hours, and we still had a long way to go. Layla loved visiting her grandma, but the journey always seemed endless to her. I needed to cheer her up.

“How about we listen to some music?” I suggested with a smile.

She shrugged, still not looking at me. I knew just the thing that would lift her spirits. I reached for my phone and connected it to the car’s Bluetooth. A few taps later, her favorite song filled the car. It was a catchy, upbeat tune she couldn’t resist.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I started singing along, my voice a bit off-key, but I didn’t care. I glanced at Layla and saw a small smile starting to form on her lips. She looked at me, her eyes brightening just a bit.

“Come on, Layla, sing with me,” I encouraged her.

She hesitated for a moment but then started to sing along softly. Her voice was sweet and clear, and soon, she was singing louder, matching my enthusiasm.

We sang together, our voices blending as we drove down the highway. The mood in the car lifted, and for a little while, the drive didn’t seem so long.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Since my husband left the family, Layla had often seemed sad. She missed him, and I could see it in her eyes every day. I tried my best to cheer her up, to make her feel loved and safe.

It wasn’t easy, but I was determined. At that time, it seemed to me that as long as I took care of Layla, my fears and anxieties would disappear, distracting me from all my problems.

I glanced at Layla again, seeing her smile as she sang. It warmed my heart. She was such a brave little girl, handling things much better than I expected.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I knew she missed her dad, but she rarely talked about it. Instead, she bottled up her feelings, and it broke my heart to see her like that.

“Layla, I’m so proud of you,” I said softly during a break in the song. She looked at me, surprised. “You’re handling everything so well. I know it’s tough, but you’re doing great.”

“Thanks, Mom,” she replied, her voice quiet but sincere.

We continued singing, the miles flying by as we enjoyed the music and each other’s company. At that moment, I realized that maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Layla’s happiness became my anchor, and I knew I had to stay strong for her. And in doing so, I found strength in myself that I never knew I had.

My mom lived in another state, so the drive to her took hours. The road seemed endless, and fatigue started to weigh on me.

Not only was it hard for Layla, but it was also tough for me to spend hours behind the wheel. The trees and fields blurred together as we drove on, the hum of the engine a constant background noise.

“Mom, I’m really tired of sitting,” Layla said, her voice tinged with a whine.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“I know, sweetheart. It’s a long drive,” I replied, trying to keep my voice cheerful. “We’ll take a break soon, I promise.”

As we continued, I noticed the fuel gauge inching closer to empty. I decided to change our route slightly to stop at a gas station.

The car needed refueling, and I desperately needed a cup of coffee. My eyelids felt heavy, and my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly to stay focused.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Stop, stop!” she yelled, her voice filled with urgency.

Startled, I carefully pulled over to the side, stopped, and asked Layla why she was screaming. “What’s wrong, Layla? What happened?”

Layla pointed in the direction we came from. “There!”

I looked out the side window and saw a man in very dirty clothes. He was holding a sign that said “help” and was slowly limping towards my car.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

My heart raced as I examined him more closely. His clothes were torn and filthy, and he looked exhausted. Fear gripped me, and I instinctively started the engine again.

“Mom! What are you doing? He needs help!” Layla cried.

“Someone else will help him…” I replied, my voice shaky.

“There’s no one else! We have to help!” Layla insisted.

I tried to ignore my daughter because I didn’t trust this man. He looked dirty, and there was a reason no one was picking him up; something was off about him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Sit quietly, dear,” I said firmly, my hands trembling as I gripped the steering wheel.

I continued driving, despite Layla’s protests, my mind racing with fear and doubt.

I pulled into the gas station to refuel the car. The bright lights of the station cut through the evening darkness. While the car was refueling, I decided to buy myself a coffee. I turned to Layla, who was staring out the window, her arms crossed.

“Layla, do you want to come with me?” I asked, hoping she’d agree and we could make up. “We can get something to drink.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

She shook her head, still upset from the incident on the road. “No, I’ll stay here,” she said flatly, not even glancing my way.

No big deal, I thought, she’ll get over it. I’ll buy her a chocolate bar, and she’ll forget her grievances.

Trying to push away the unease that was creeping in, I stepped out of the car. The cool air felt refreshing on my face as I made my way into the gas station convenience store.

Inside, the store was brightly lit and smelled faintly of coffee and cleaning products. I walked over to the coffee machine, filled a cup, and added a bit of sugar. I could still feel that nagging feeling in the back of my mind, but I tried to brush it off.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

At the counter, the cashier smiled at me. “Long drive?” he asked, ringing up my coffee.

“Yeah,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Just need a little pick-me-up.”

I paid for the coffee and a chocolate bar for Layla. “Thanks,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. The cashier nodded, handing me my change.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Finishing my coffee, I headed back to the car, the chocolate bar in my hand. But as I approached, I felt my heart drop. The car was empty. Layla was not inside.

Panic surged through me. I ran to the car, opening the door and checking the back seats. “Layla?” I called out, my voice trembling. “Layla, where are you?”

I looked around frantically, spotting a man in the next car over. “Excuse me, did you see a little girl?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “She was in my car a minute ago.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

He shook his head, looking concerned. “No, I didn’t see anyone. Sorry.”

I rushed to the gas station worker who was outside checking the pumps. “Have you seen my daughter? She’s eight, with dark hair,” I asked, my voice rising with desperation.

The worker shook his head. “No, ma’am, I haven’t seen her. Maybe she went inside?”

I felt a cold dread wash over me. She must have gone to that man. My heart was pounding out of my chest; I was terrified. “Silly girl, anything could happen to her,” I muttered to myself, fear gripping me tighter with each passing second.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I jumped back into the car and started it up, my hands shaking. I drove back down the road, my eyes scanning the sides for any sign of Layla. “Please, let her be okay,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Nervously, I drove, my eyes darting back and forth, scanning the road. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and my heart pounded in my chest.

The trees and fields blurred past as I searched desperately for Layla. The minutes felt like hours.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I saw her. Layla was walking along the roadside, her small figure looking so fragile and alone. Relief washed over me as I pulled over beside her, the tires crunching on the gravel.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Get in the car immediately!” I shouted, my voice sharper than I intended. I had never raised my voice at her before, and I could see the fear in her eyes. Immediately, I regretted it.

Layla’s eyes widened, and she stopped in her tracks. “Mom…” she started, but her voice trailed off as she saw my panic-stricken face.

“Please, just get in the car,” I said more gently, trying to soften my tone.

She nodded, scared, and obediently climbed into the car. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself as I watched her buckle her seatbelt.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“I’m sorry I yelled,” I said softly, turning to face her. “I was just so scared.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Layla replied, her voice small. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the tension still hanging in the air. Finally, I broke the silence.

“Why did you leave the car, Layla? You know it’s not safe.”

She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “I wanted to help that man, Mom. He needed help, and no one else was stopping.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I sighed, torn between fear and admiration for my brave little girl. “Layla, people are bad. You can’t just trust strangers like that. It’s dangerous.”

Layla looked up at me, her eyes filled with determination. “But, Mom, we can’t suspect everyone of being bad. Just because Dad is a bad person doesn’t mean everyone else is.”

Her words surprised me. She was just a child, but she understood so much. “Mom, goodness always returns,” she added softly.

I stared at her, my heart swelling with pride and love. She was right. Maybe I had been too quick to judge. “I’m sorry, Layla. You’re right. We should help when we can. Let’s go back and see if we can find that man.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Layla’s face lit up with a smile. “Really, Mom?”

“Really,” I said, smiling back.

We turned the car around and drove back down the road. Very soon, we found him. He was in the same place, standing with the help sign. As we approached, he saw us and waved weakly before collapsing.

“Mom, he’s hurt!” Layla cried, unbuckling her seatbelt.

We rushed out of the car and ran over to him. He looked exhausted and dehydrated. I gave him some water, and Layla held his hand, offering him comfort.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “My name is Michael. I just need a ride to the nearby town.”

I nodded, helping him to his feet. “We can do that. Let’s get you to the car.”

We helped him into the backseat, and Layla sat next to him, her curiosity shining through her concern. As we drove, she bombarded him with questions, her natural curiosity taking over.

“What happened to you?” she asked gently.

Michael sighed, looking out the window. “A day ago, a taxi driver robbed me and left me in the middle of the highway without my phone or wallet. I’ve been walking ever since, hoping someone would stop and help.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

We drove Michael to the address he gave, and it turned out to be a large office building. The tall, glass structure gleamed under the sun. As soon as we pulled up, a guard immediately ran out to him, looking relieved.

“Mr. Michael! We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We were very worried,” the guard exclaimed, his face showing genuine concern.

It was obvious that Michael held a high position in this company. He nodded to the guard and turned to us with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much for bringing me here,” he said. “You really saved me.”

Michael approached me and said, “Can I have your phone number? I want to repay your kindness somehow.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I hesitated for a moment, then admitted, “Honestly, I was afraid to help you at first. It was all thanks to my daughter, Layla, that we stopped.”

Michael looked at Layla and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Layla. You have a very kind heart.” He then turned back to me. “But you did change your mind, and that’s what matters. It’s never too late to help someone.”

He promised that we would meet again and said goodbye. As we drove away, I reflected on the experience.

I will never forget this trip; even small children can sometimes teach us important lessons. Layla had shown me the power of kindness and the importance of helping others, no matter how difficult it might seem.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: My mom gave up everything to raise me. After my dad bailed, she was always there for me, the only one. All I wanted was to do something nice for her. So, I figured it wasn’t too late for her to find love on a dating app. But Lord, what I definitely DIDN’T EXPECT was finding her with my boss! Read the full story here.

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