Long Distance Bares It All
Take away the touch, the convenience, and the shortcuts, and what’s left is the truth.
Here’s what nobody tells you about long distance: it can be deeply, frustratingly boring and that’s precisely why it’s such a painful test.
You can’t manufacture intimacy with convenience. You can’t confuse proximity for attraction. You can’t justify compatibility with access. Distance puts an end to all of these. It strips down the relationship to the bones—character and intent.
Everyone always says that they can’t do long distance, that distance kills the relationship. For me, distance reveals the truth.
When there is no hand holding to soften the blow of a fight, when there are no flowers to show appreciation, or when there is no make up sex to sweep hard things under the rug, what’s left? The truth.
Being long distance forces you to speak your mind and communicate better. Because you can’t just wait for your partner to sit down beside you on the couch and wait til the anger rubs off. You have to face each other and talk about the issues no matter how big or small they are.
No forehead kisses means no immediate way of making the other feel better. The only way to find relief is to fully hear each other out until you feel safe and connected again.
Let’s face it, a lot of relationships are held together by proximity more than people would like to admit. You work together. You are neighbors. You grew up together. But what happens when proximity is out of the equation? When you are faced with the question “If your partner is removed from your normal daily routine, would you still choose them?”
To a lot of people, the answer would be no, they can’t do long distance. And that’s totally valid. Distance is like a magnifying glass on a relationship, turning the tiniest cracks into things you can’t look past.
Distance forces you to show up. Without the physical shortcuts, conflict has nowhere to hide so you have to talk. Resolutions only come in communication, there is no guessing. Texts can’t convey tone and intent, you have to say what you mean.
Distance asks you to be patient. In waiting for the next time you meet, in passing judgement, in trusting in your partner to evolve.
It makes you creative, because sometimes dinner and a movie just doesn’t cut it. It makes you think out of the box so you can express your love across time and distance.
Distance is being okay with the quiet. Some days aren’t for constant communication. Some days are for boring, quiet, wordless days.
It creates room for self-improvement, no matter how painful it may be. Distance shines light on your behavior, reactions, and ability to take feedback. It opens you up to looking deeper into yourself and becoming a better version for you and your relationship.
Distance makes you independent. It pushes you to be two whole people rather than two halves. It gives you plenty of time alone to really get to know yourself and form your own interests and beliefs.
It makes you feel the full spectrum of emotions. Absolute unexplainable joy when you reunite. Devastation when you part. Frustration, melancholy, excitement, you name it! While not all of these are “good” emotions, they are all part of the human experience.
And above all, distance gives you clarity on your intentions. It gives you a strong peek at how serious you are about one another.
Proximity makes connection easy and therefore easy to leave on autopilot; distance makes it expensive and therefore deliberate.
Here’s what nobody tells you about long distance: the boring days are the ones doing the work. The quiet calls, the waiting, the hard conversations with nothing to soften them. It’s a painful test, but not because it’s dramatic. It’s painful because there’s nowhere to look except at what’s actually there.
And if what’s there is worth choosing, everything you do becomes intentional. Every trip is an investment in your future. And every meeting is a step closer to permanently closing the gap.