Why We Need More Platonic Sleepovers in College

I wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers until I was nine years old—that was the deal. I, like many eldest daughters, was not afforded many opportunities to take risks. The rules of my childhood made my first sleepover with my elementary school best friend all the more legendary. We celebrated with grandiosity – the only way pre-teens know how – and indulged in ice cream cake and Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs.  

I made her promise we would stay up all night – a promise I held myself surprisingly accountable for, when I woke up the next morning with a whopping hour of sleep under my belt, my face puffy and teeth unbrushed. I was surrounded by remnants of Mad Libs and candy wrappers from the night before. That was the day when I fell in love with sleepovers. My gateway to platonic intimacy, I would sustain myself on sleepovers with my friends until I left for college several years later. 

My first few weeks of college were revolutionary. I was freshly 18 years old, and, for the first time in my adult life, I got to eat whatever I wanted, be out as late as I wanted, and, within reason, sleep wherever I wanted. However, college students quickly come to realize the immense power they hold. Despite the privileges of my new semi-independent lifestyle, I found myself returning to one aspect of adolescence that the freedoms of my college experience continuously fell short in reproducing: sleepovers. 

I don’t mean the act of just sleeping next to someone. I mean a real, state-of-the-art sleepover. Like, the ones you would have in high school and middle school when you would laugh so hard you peed your pants, gossiping about impossible crushes until you collapsed, fighting sleep in a sleeping bag (and even that was a luxurious option) on someone else’s concrete basement floor. 

Sleepovers in college are very underrated. Often, they carry the weight of obligation. Having a roommate (get this, a nine-month slumber party!) falls flat in replicating your classic sleepover. Even though all of my relationships with my roommates are sacred, they are more based on balancing each other’s needs, moderating your capacity to be annoying and messy, to maintain a kind of balance between members of a household. 

This relationship is important, but the “real deal” sleepover is inconvenient for everyone, leaving participants sufficiently sleep deprived, with fuzzy teeth from plaque. There is no shame in being difficult to deal with when the whole ordeal is bound to leave you exhausted the next day, regardless. 

Too often, as well, sleepovers carry the stain of last night’s regrets, of one-night stands, and alcohol-fueled embarrassment (add a hangover into the mix for good measure!). Like many other college students, I’ve made the doomed trek back to my dorm or to the dining hall from God-knows-where-else. Head pounding, equipped with an outfit that I could’ve sworn looked much cuter the night before, smelling sufficiently rancid, and feeling sufficiently less connected to the person I just spent the evening with, I realized that romantic sleepovers have dominated the college sleepover game for too long. 

As an adult, I find myself wanting to return to the intimacy of slumber parties. In college, we are constantly surrounded by our friends, our partners, and our classmates. However, it’s easier than ever to feel isolated. Sleepovers remedy this with a glimpse into someone else’s life and space. In a world where proximity is increasingly marred by the reality of mutual obligation (or attraction), sleepovers provide a much-needed escape: a means of intimacy without expectation. 

• adult friendship
• college
• kenyon
• opinion
• sleepovers