The Delusional Idea of Making a Long-Distance Relationship Work

I was in a long-distance relationship — the kind where you endure a 14-hour trip to spend two weeks together after being apart for six months. The one where you don’t share the same language, customs, or culture.

Despite the odds, we made it work in the end. We got married, and I moved to be with him, leaving behind the country that had been my home for 27 years.

Like any long-distance relationship, it wasn’t easy. Living an ocean apart with a seven-hour time difference and seeing each other only twice a year is neither normal nor fun. That’s why it surprises me to see many people who still do long-distance. Why would anyone willingly go through that ordeal?

We met through an exchange program that sends international students to work at a summer camp in the U.S. We used to talk during every break or day off, and from there, our love blossomed. I don’t remember if we ever discussed the challenges of entering a long-distance relationship, but we did it anyway. We just wanted to be together, and we made it work.

He always came to visit me, but I never visited him. As a university student, I didn’t have the money to travel to a country where the exchange rate was so high. Thankfully, it was never an issue for him to come to me. He loved my country, its food and traditions. He quickly became familiar with my surroundings. My favourite places were not mine anymore, they were ours.

The streets of my hometown witnessed our love story. Since I never visited his country, I often wondered if he thought about me when he went to his favourite restaurant, the way I thought about him at mine. Most likely not. How could he, in a place untouched by our love?

I wish it had been different, but every time he went back home, I was left with a certain resentment that made me feel miserable. Everywhere I went reminded me of the good times we shared, which only happened twice a year.

But I learned to cope. I became resilient and I put my faith in our relationship. The stronger I became, the more convinced I was that he was the one — and I believe he felt the same.

We wanted to close the gap, to get married, and to start a family. But where? We had two options: the familiar place, cheaper and offered easier access to citizenship, or the country I had never been to — one with a different culture, no network, and a burdensome migration process. The first option seemed more practical, but I’ll be honest, I had always dreamed of moving abroad and living somewhere with better opportunities. He also believed his country could offer us both a higher quality of life. So, we decided to make a life in his homeland.

Many people thought I was not being logical, and I don’t blame them, I met his family and friends just a week before the wedding, so they had a point.

In hindsight, I can’t believe people saw me do what could’ve been the biggest mistake of my life. I knew no one over there, I had no money, no job. I only had him. What a delusional woman I probably appeared to be.
Love makes you crazy. But something in me said this is the most sensible thing to do. Even if that meant leaving my family, cats, friends, job — everything.

And I did it. I gave everything up for love.

Something in me kept saying everything was going to be fine. As delusional and irrational as I might have seemed, I had some evidence that it was the right thing to do. My family and friends — whose judgment I deeply trust — loved him, and his family turned out to be some of the loveliest people I’ve ever met. When we arrived in our new home, they welcomed me with open arms, as if they’d always known me. They were happy that we had made it.

It’s been a year and a half since I moved. It’s not a long time, but it’s been amazing. Having my husband with me is incredible, he always makes me feel protected and loved. I enjoy my new surroundings and I’m slowly but surely finding my place here, figuring out the way of life, away from everything I’ve known for 27 years.

Sometimes, in my moments of ease, I can’t believe we did all of it. Everything could have ended up so wrong. I don’t recommend it. This has been the greatest leap of faith I have ever taken. I risked a lot and gave up so much — but thank goodness it was all worth it.
Maybe it was because we were 21 — full of hope, optimism, and idealistic ideas about love — that we believed we could make it work, that love was enough. It sounds insane, but we did it.

Long-distance relationships can be cruel. In many cases, the idea that they can work might seem delusional, and often, people will discourage you. They can lead to resentment over many issues— whether it’s not spending enough time talking, sacrificing your time for your partner, or feeling like you’re doing too much while the other isn’t putting in the same effort. However, many of these relationships do succeed, and it’s beautiful to see. They demonstrate the power of trust, patience, and love.

Only you can decide if your relationship is worth the distance. Trust your instincts and lean on the evidence you have — whether it’s your partner’s actions or support from your network. Just make sure your relationship is built on a foundation of mutual effort, because in the end, taking that risk might lead to the most fulfilling rewards.

We’re now 29, settled in our new home with a cute black cat, navigating adulthood together. We’re experiencing firsts all over again: Valentine’s Day, Christmas, birthdays, holidays. We’re learning, growing, and dreaming of a good future, just like we did in our early 20s, but now, we’re together.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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