One of us may have to leave

A medium-sized plant in the small bedroom seemed a good idea three years ago. As I have brown fingers, I didn't expect it to survive, let alone thrive.
But it did. It's now difficult to get round the foot of the bed without getting briefly brushed by its - er - leaves. Particularly alarming at night. Guests tell me.
But it's too big to dispose of - this would feel like putting down a pet.
Maybe the small red Ikea it stands on will collapse under the weight. After all, I did assemble the table.