“Oh, you poor thing.”
“You’re so strong.”
These are the reactions I get when I tell people I’m in a long–distance relationship. While being far from someone you love is difficult, I believe it’s also a beautiful thing.
I’m originally from Los Angeles but have been living on the East Coast for four years now, starting with boarding school. Two summers ago, while home in LA, I met my boyfriend. I was doing research in a biology lab, and he was there for a summer internship. We had only been officially dating for about a month when I returned to school in Connecticut, while he stayed in LA for college. Just like that, we were 2,500 miles apart with a three–hour time difference.
At first, it felt impossible. I remember the first week back at school, staring at my phone, waiting for his name to light up my screen, counting down the hours until we could talk. I’d fall asleep to the sound of his voice on FaceTime, only to wake up to the emptiness of my dorm room. Despite being surrounded by people and friends, I felt lonely—missing the casual, in–between moments of daily life that people in normal relationships often take for granted.
Of course, long distance isn’t for everyone. It takes the right kind of person and the right kind of relationship. From the start, we were clear that we weren’t just messing around; we wanted something serious. After all, why commit to long distance if you don’t see a future in it?
Here’s my take: Long–distance relationships only work if both people share the same future goals and trust each other completely.
My boyfriend and I lead vastly different college experiences. He attends a small, academically rigorous STEM school, where his days revolve around coursework, an internship, and soccer practices. Meanwhile, Penn is more socially active, and I’m constantly juggling different clubs and events. But despite our differences, we always make the effort to show up for each other. I never miss one of his soccer games, even if it means catching the final minutes over a live stream after class. He listens to me vent about my day, even when we’re both exhausted.
The little things make a big difference. Even a five–minute call to say goodnight is a reminder that we’re always keeping each other in mind. It’s the voice message he leaves me before a big exam, the “I’m proud of you” text after I publish an article.
There’s no jealousy or mistrust because we both know we’re not the kind of people to betray each other. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t doubts.
There were nights I wondered if this was sustainable. If we were missing out on the “real” college experience by choosing each other. There are nights when I chose to stay in for a phone call while my friends blasted music, swapped outfits, and hyped each other up for a night out. I was happy where I was, but still, I couldn’t help but wonder what I was missing. If one day, the distance would be too much and if it would all be worth it. I won’t lie—long distance isn’t just about missing someone. It’s about wondering if they miss you just as much. But I’ve learned that love isn’t about proximity. It’s about showing up, in whatever way you can.
And in the process, I’ve learned to show up for myself too.
It’s easy to become codependent in relationships, but long distance forces you to stand on your own. While I know I have someone who loves me, I also take care of myself every day. I don’t always love carrying my own packages or walking home alone at night, but it’s built character. I’ve learned to pursue my own goals independently, knowing I have his support.
I made the choice to stay on the East Coast for college, even though I could have returned to California to be closer to him. And that was one of the hardest but most defining decisions I’ve ever made. For us, the decision was clear—our relationship would never hold us back from personal growth, and we respect each other’s choices. That mutual understanding has strengthened us in ways I never expected.
Airport goodbyes never get easier—the lingering hugs, the last look before turning away, the hollow feeling that settles in as I walk toward security. And there will always be nights when I wish we could be together, like when I’m curled up in my dorm after a long day, staring at my phone, wishing his name on the screen could somehow close the miles between us. But at such a pivotal stage in my life, being physically apart yet emotionally close has deepened our connection and trust.
Every relationship is different, but for me, long distance has been essential to my journey into adulthood. It has given me the space to focus on my aspirations while knowing that my relationship remains a source of strength and stability. Long distance has taught me that love isn’t about always being together. It’s about growing together, even when you’re apart.
