Hi. I’m a pillow.
Not your average pillow, obviously.
I’m a JUVEA pillow, made of natural latex. Sustainably sourced. (Don’t worry , I made sure.) Flash frozen to hold my bounce, which means I don’t collapse under pressure. Even when you do.
I don’t say much. All structure, no sound.
But, I see everything.
I spend most of my time holding things.
Mostly heads at night.
Sometimes grief.
Occasionally a juice box.
You might not know it, but I’ve been holding you together. Literally.
Here is a glimpse of how it goes:
6:30 P.M. – Hello, World.
An entourage of laughter fills the hallways outside the room I live in. The kids are home.
They all pile onto the bed like it’s a wrestling ring. (I’m the clear fan favorite.)
I get tossed around a bit, but I stay sturdy.
A movie gets put on before dinner. Popcorn crumbs everywhere. Someone falls asleep. Life is good.
9:00 P.M. – Bring out the Books
She settles into me, her book in hand.
The man walks in, saying something half-funny, half-serious.
There’s a pause. A quiet, tired sigh.
Sometimes love sounds like silence. Sometimes like, “Can you pick the kids up tomorrow for me?”
I’m here through it all. Through the cuddles, arguments, or just silence. I support you.
That’s part of the job.
11:30 P.M. – Snoozeville
Lights out. Finally, I really don’t like the overhead light. It does nothing for my complexion.
This is where I shine. (Literally, the moonlight loves me.)
Her head sinks into me like she’s been holding it together for way too long and realized she doesn’t have to anymore.
I hold her without judgment. (Okay, maybe a little judgment. The guy on the other side of the bed snores. I’m holding up, but it’s a challenge)
Latex doesn’t lie. Latex doesn’t flatten.
I’ve got the night shift.
3:00 A.M. – Dancing in the Dark
She’s dreaming again, stirring slightly.
Murmurs sound in the still room.
Her arm flops across the bed like a sleepy starfish.
I don’t move.
7:30 AM – A Pillow Abandoned
A piercing ring goes off. Not a soft jingle, more like a war horn.
She groans, betrayed by time.
I feel her head rise from me.
I’m hugged by the array of throw blankets and fluffy duvet. Because that’s my job.
And I’ll be here again tonight. After all, I’m a JUVEA pillow: loyal, reliable, emotionally available.
–
Being a pillow might sound weird. To be honest, it is. You spend your life catching things that fall. Heads, tears, crumbs, whatever. You’re not asked for anything more than presence.
If you’re tired of collapsing into things that collapse right back, try something different. JUVEA pillows have your back– literally.
Use code JUNE10 for 10% off your next order!
-Rachel MacLaren