The Other Side

Krissy and I will be celebrating 20 years of marriage—22 years together—this August. It doesn’t feel that long until I stop and look at everything we’ve done and built together. We’ve both changed in so many ways, and I know our future will continue to shape us even more.

But up until about a year and a half ago, there was one constant in our relationship…

I was always cold, and Krissy was always hot.

I lived in wool socks and long sleeves. I hated—and still hate—air conditioning. Krissy, on the other hand, has always run hot. And honestly, she had the better end of that deal, because I am a people pleaser… especially a Krissy pleaser.

I’d rather be uncomfortable myself than listen to her be uncomfortable.

On one of our very first dates, I remember freezing while she had the windows open, smoking, casually saying, “I’m totally fine,” while I sat there shivering.

And then… nature did its thing.

Perimenopause hit—and now I don’t even know what “cool” feels like anymore. Hot flashes are very real.

At almost the exact same time, Krissy’s body must have decided to switch teams, because now she is constantly freezing. Not cold—freezing. She skipped right past cold entirely.

I’m comfortable and Krissy is still FREEZING!

So now we’re still on opposite ends of the temperature spectrum… just reversed.

Wool socks are permanently on Krissy’s packing list—even in 100-degree weather—and fans are on mine.

I’m still mostly a Krissy pleaser when it comes to the thermostat, but every now and then I have to put my foot down. There’s a limit—I can’t take off any more layers… but she can always put more on.

A few weeks ago, we were in a hotel in Miami, and the weather outside was amazing. Honestly—perfect.

I fell asleep comfortably, the soft glow of Krissy’s computer lighting the room.

The scene of the crime!

A few hours later, I woke up and hadn’t seen her touch the thermostat… but somehow the room unbeknownst to me was 80-something.

I had stripped down completely and was lying on top of the bedding, wondering what the hell was happening to my body.

I kept flipping my pillow, searching for that cool side.

And for the first time in my life, I truly understood the magic of the cool side of the pillow…

But let me tell you—it only lasts about three seconds.

So now I’m curious—

Are you and your partner temperature-matched?

If not, how do you handle it?

And have you ever chased the cool side of the pillow like your life depended on it?

Here’s to finding comfort somewhere in the middle.

—Anne