For anyone new here, my husband Michael and I did five years of long-distance throughout college. He went to Middlebury College in Vermont, I went to Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore. We literally went in opposite directions from our hometown in New York. He went north and I went south. Five years, 446 miles apart, and somehow we made it work.
But it's not just that we made it work, it’s how we did it. And perhaps even more importantly, whether long-distance is even the right choice in the first place.
Not everyone should do long-distance
Before I dive into the details, I want to be really honest. I don’t think a long-distance relationship is right for everyone.
I believe there’s a certain type of person who can handle it, especially at the stage we were at (young, in college, figuring ourselves out). If your primary love language is physical touch, if you struggle with trust issues, or if you need constant reassurance through in-person connection, it might not be your thing.
For us, though, we knew. Like really knew that we wanted to get married someday. Even at 16, when I first told Michael (and strategically avoided telling my family because I knew how crazy it sounded)… I had a deep gut feeling that it was going to happen. I even somehow knew that we would have two kids (a boy first followed by a girl), but that’s a story for another day.
When you have such a strong gut feeling about the relationship’s ultimate success, I think it makes the distance a bit more manageable. Still far from easy, but manageable.
The trust factor
First, the foundation of everything was a shared, complete, and unwavering trust.
When you're not physically together, trust is literally all you have. I can't tell you how many times guys at parties would look me dead in the eye and say, "Why are you in a long-distance relationship? Don't you want to see what else is out there?"
And the answer was always, “Well… I can see. I’m looking at you, aren’t I?” Ok… so I wasn’t always that snarky in my responses. But the truth is, I was looking around me. I didn’t sit inside and shield myself from every male in my vicinity. I was in a sorority, I went to bars and frat parties… I even had a lot of guy friends. But because I was so confident in my decision (I knew Michael was a better fit for me than every single person in those rooms), I never felt the need to "explore" anything to confirm it.
But trust isn't just about fidelity; it's also about transparency. We told each other everything. If I was grabbing lunch with a guy from my a cappella group, Michael knew. If he was hanging out with a female friend (of which he had many), I knew. In fact, I was even “friends” with them virtually through him.
There were no secrets, hidden conversations, or room for doubt.
Communication was everything
In a regular relationship, you can get away with not always voicing every feeling because your body language speaks, too. But when you're physically apart, you have to lay it all out, out loud.
We talked every night—sometimes for hours, sometimes for five minutes to say goodnight. We did virtual dinner dates where we'd cook the same meal and eat "together" over Skype. We even did virtual sleepovers where we'd leave our computers open all night on video chat so we could fall asleep and wake up "together."
The key was that we were always in communication and clear about our needs. When one of us needed more attention, we’d tell the other, and if we were feeling disconnected, we’d let the other know.
You can't assume your partner knows what you're thinking, especially when you're hundreds of miles apart.
The gift of individual growth
Long-distance is hard but one good thing that came with it for us was the freedom to grow independently.
I was the president of my a cappella group, in a sorority, making videos constantly for the Admissions Office, and was completely immersed in school. Michael was captain of his baseball team, involved in his own clubs and extracurriculars, and living his own full college experience.
If we'd been at the same school, I honestly don't know if we would have had the physical bandwidth to pour ourselves into everything we cared about. I watched so many of my Hopkins friends throughout college (who were dating others from our school), and many of them were basically living with their partners. These relationships often impacted their ability to maintain friendships, let alone engage in extracurricular activities or even complete their own schoolwork. Often, they would stay in on the weekends, opting to spend a night with their partner instead of partying with friends.
Don’t get me wrong, I was often jealous of those couples and imagined how nice it would be to have something similar. But looking back, I’m genuinely grateful for the time we spent apart. It gave us the space to become fully formed individuals while still supporting each other.
The light at the end of the tunnel
One of the most important factors for us was knowing that we had an endpoint.
From the beginning, we both decided that we would only be looking for post-college jobs in New York City. This was easy for us as we grew up in the same town right out of NYC, so we knew NY was the best geographical option for us anyway given our families and friends. Thus, no matter what opportunities came up elsewhere, we knew that in 2014, when I graduated, we'd both be in the same city.
That countdown kept us going until the end, and every semester, we knew we’d get to see each other at least once, sometimes twice. We were always planning the next visit and looking forward to something we’d experience together.
I really don't know if we could have made it work without that certainty. If our time apart had been indefinite, with no clear plan for when we'd be together again, I think it would have been exponentially harder.
Would I recommend it?
My take is that if you really know that this person is it for you, then yes. Absolutely, do the long-distance if that's what it takes. But if you're doing it because you feel obligated, or you're scared of being alone? Then it might be worth reconsidering.
I personally wouldn’t consider long-distance to be a “test” of your relationship's validity. Some relationships are only meant to happen when you're in the same place, at the same time, and that's okay too.
For us, I know it was the right choice. We came out the other side stronger, more communicative, and more certain about each other than ever before. That said, it was also really, really hard and anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.
I’m glad those days are behind us, but if I could go back, I wouldn’t change a thing.
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT
Last week on The Real Stuff podcast, I recorded a solo episode sharing one of the wildest stories from my life as a creator.
I talked about the time I personally invited one of my online haters to get on a video call with me, and to my surprise, she actually said yes.
In this episode, I go deeper than I ever have before, sharing how the call came together, what was going through my head leading up to it, and (ALERT!) actual audio from the conversation itself (distorting her voice, of course). This is something I’ve never shared anywhere else.
Here’s a peek at what I covered:
On setting up the call: After waking up to a barrage of aggressive comments from this woman, about my body, my business, and a course I had just launched, something in me needed to understand why. So I set up the call. "I have a burning curiosity to know if, to my face, she's going to be able to say the same things that she said," I told Michael. He was skeptical. He was also right outside the door the entire time, just in case.
On what was really going on: The woman broke down on the call. She'd been through eating disorders, addiction, rehab, job loss, a breakup, and family estrangement, and almost every low point in her life had a direct mirror in something she was watching me celebrate online. "Every high point in my life had an equal but opposite correlation in her life."
On what I told her: Rather than lecture her, I shared something that has genuinely worked for me… that when I feel jealous of someone online, I force myself to send them love instead. A like, a comment, a heart. "In my experience, doing that usually yields a better emotional outcome." I'm not sure if it landed, but I truly meant it.
On forgiving her: After 44 minutes, I wiped the slate clean. "As far as I'm concerned, the slate is being wiped clean and I'm happy to welcome you with open arms." I meant that, too, even if she's since had a few relapses into old behavior.
On listening back five years later: This was maybe my favorite part of the episode. Going back to the recording, I heard how high and tight my voice sounded and how unsure I was. "I felt such compassion for that younger version of me and such a sense of protectiveness over this girl." I've grown a lot since that call and I could hear it.
I go much deeper in the full episode, so if you haven’t listened yet, you should definitely check it out. More than anything, I hope it serves as a reminder that the people behind the cruelest comments are often hurting the most.
If you've ever been on the receiving end of hate online, or if you've ever wondered what it would look like to actually face it head-on, you'll get something from this episode. Plus, the actual audio clips are something else.
You can listen to the full episode of The Real Stuff on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or watch on YouTube.
BE MY NEXT GUEST
A couple of times a month, instead of a celebrity guest, I’m handing the mic to YOU. I’m inviting members of my audience (anonymously if you’d prefer) to join the show and talk about ALL the real stuff: sex, money, mental health, and everything in between. If you’re ready for a deeply personal conversation on a public platform or have a wild life story to share, apply here.
WHAT YOU SAID
After sharing the story of my Uncle Donald a couple of weeks ago, I asked whether you believe in signs or visitations from loved ones who have passed on.
And to my surprise, an overwhelming majority of you said yes!
A full 45% of you have personally experienced a sign or visitation, while another 23% believe in them even without a firsthand encounter. That means nearly seven in ten of you carry some form of belief that loved ones don't simply disappear when their body stops working.
Another 19% said they're not sure but remain open, 9% said “no” but with respect for those who do believe, and just 4% said they don't believe at all.
What moves me most is how few of you closed the door entirely. Whether it's a ladybug on the window, a song that comes on at exactly the right moment, or a dream so vivid it didn't feel like dreaming, so many of us have felt something like this. And for those who haven't yet, I truly hope it finds you when you need it most.
QUESTION OF THE WEEK
I'm curious about your experiences with relationships and long-distance. Have you ever done long-distance or considered whether you actually could?
Have you ever been in a long-distance relationship?
The results will appear immediately after you vote! Check next week's issue for the final numbers.
UNTIL NEXT TIME
To anyone currently in a long-distance relationship, I see you. I know how hard it is, and how isolating it can feel when everyone around you is questioning why you’re even trying or telling you it won’t work.
But if you know, you know. Trust that feeling, trust your person, and trust that if it’s meant to work out, it will… distance and all!
And if you’re enjoying the newsletter, here are a few simple ways to support it:
💌 Never miss an issue: add me to your contacts (and drag this into “primary” if your inbox tucks it away).
💛 Share with a friend: forward today’s email or send them here to subscribe.
✨ Catch up anytime: read the latest posts and past issues in the archives.
💬 Talk to me: reply with ideas, questions, good news, or what you want more of — my team and I read every note!