I used to think the most romantic thing about sharing a bed with someone was falling asleep together. You know, that cosy moment where you drift off listening to their breathing, feeling all warm and content.
That was before the grinding started.
It All Started with a Strange Noise
The first time I heard it, I genuinely thought there was a mouse in the walls. A rhythmic sort of scratching, squeaking sound that would start around 2am and continue intermittently until dawn. I lay there in the darkness, trying to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from, wondering if we'd need to call pest control.
It took me three nights to realise the "mouse" was sleeping right next to me.
My husband, bless him, was completely oblivious. "What noise?" he'd ask cheerfully over breakfast, while I looked like an extra from a zombie film. He had no idea that his teeth were hosting their own late-night grinding session while the rest of him slept peacefully. Meanwhile, I was wide awake, contemplating whether separate bedrooms were really such a terrible idea.
I tried everything: earplugs (still too loud), white noise machines (just added another layer of sound), even nudging him gently to stop (which only worked until he fell back into deep sleep and started up again). I spent more time staring at the ceiling than actually sleeping, calculating how many hours I had left before the alarm went off.
The Nightly Battle for Sleep
What really got me was how utterly unaware he was of the whole situation. He'd wake up refreshed, stretch luxuriously, and ask how I slept. "Oh, you know, brilliantly," I'd say through gritted teeth (ironically). "Apart from the all-night dental concerto."
Our bedtime routine became a bit of a farce. I'd lie there tensely, waiting for it to start, like someone anticipating a jump scare in a horror film. Sometimes I'd drift off, only to be jolted awake by what can only be described as the sound of gravel being crushed underfoot. Romantic, isn't it?
The worst part? He'd occasionally wake up with a sore jaw or a headache, completely mystified about why. "Must've slept funny," he'd muse, whilst I resisted the urge to explain in great detail exactly what his jaw had been up to all night.
I love my husband dearly, but lack of sleep does funny things to a person. I found myself genuinely envious of the cat, who seemed entirely unbothered by the nocturnal gnashing and could sleep through anything. If only I could be so lucky.
The Turning Point: Finding a Solution That Actually Works
Desperation makes you do strange things. I found myself Googling "partner grinding teeth at night" at 3am, scrolling through forums where other sleep-deprived souls shared my pain. "You're not alone!" they typed, which was comforting, but didn't actually solve the problem.
I'd heard about nightguards before, but assumed they were expensive, complicated things you had to get made at the dentist. The thought of navigating appointments and waiting weeks for something custom-made felt overwhelming. Plus, knowing my husband, he'd probably "forget" to book the appointment anyway.
Then I stumbled across the OPRO Nightguard during one of my bleary-eyed late-night research sessions. What caught my attention was how straightforward it seemed: you could mould it yourself at home in minutes, no dental visit required. OPRO's a brand founded by a dentist, so they clearly know a thing or two about protecting teeth. I figured if it was good enough for rugby players, it might just survive my husband's nocturnal grinding.
I ordered one. What did I have to lose, apart from more sleep?
The moulding process was surprisingly easy, boil some water, soften the guard, bite down, done. My husband was a bit sceptical at first (it's the classic "do I really need this?" response), but agreed to give it a try. Mostly because I'd reached that level of exhaustion where I was no longer asking nicely.
That first night, I lay there in the darkness, braced for the familiar soundtrack to begin. And… nothing. Blissful, peaceful, glorious nothing. I actually had to check he was still breathing at one point because the silence was so profound. When I did finally drift off, it was into the kind of deep, uninterrupted sleep I'd almost forgotten existed.
Peace Restored (and Sleep, Glorious Sleep)
I wish I could adequately describe what it's like to wake up naturally after a full night's sleep, rather than being jolted awake multiple times by the sound of enamel grinding against enamel. It's transformative. Revolutionary. I felt like a functioning human being again.
My husband's noticed the difference too. No more morning jaw aches, no more unexplained headaches, and most tellingly, he's stopped waking up with that vaguely guilty expression when I mention I had a terrible night's sleep. Because now, finally, I don't.
The OPRO Nightguard has become a permanent fixture on his bedside table, slipped in every night as routinely as setting an alarm. It's comfortable enough that he doesn't fuss about wearing it (high praise from someone who claimed he "wouldn't be able to sleep with something in his mouth").
More importantly? We're both sleeping. Properly sleeping. The kind where you wake up and actually feel rested rather than like you've done ten rounds in a boxing ring. Our relationship has improved too, if I'm honest, it turns out I'm much nicer when I'm not operating on four hours of broken sleep.
If your partner's nighttime symphony is keeping you awake, or if you're the one doing the grinding, do yourselves both a favour and look into the OPRO Nightguard. It's one of those simple solutions that makes you wonder why you didn't try it months ago. Trust me, your sleep (and your relationship) will thank you.
And if you'll excuse me, I'm off for an early night. Because I can actually enjoy those again now.
— Sarah Mitchell, OPRO Customer
