A forced long-distance relationship, and self-identity in love
"And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow"
“I am moving to Seattle,” I let the words after keeping them in for weeks.
My boyfriend slowly nodded, then stopped, and tried to process what he had just heard. I bit my lips and played with my fingers. We just sat and looked at each other in silence.
After months of finding jobs, I finally landed one. Even better yet, a remote one, and I can technically work anywhere in the US, as long as I have a desk and Internet connection. That meant I could go with my boyfriend to Denver, where his job would be. He was thrilled, as the concerns of a long-distance relationship were erased immediately. Back in college, while both of us (technically) had our own dorm rooms, we always lived together. We got along well, we were each other’s support, and we wanted to keep it that way.
But, I wanted something more.
The remote job filled my mind with possibilities:
A bustling city where I can meet people in tech
Exploring simple things I had never tried, like meal prepping and practicing yoga
Reading all the books and trying all the cooking recipes that I never had time for in college
I was like a tree yearning for more sunlight to grow my buds. In my head at that time, being with my boyfriend meant that I needed to learn to be in harmony with his shades, and how he wanted to grow.
I didn’t want to be in his shades. I wanted to find the sunniest place to grow.
So we parted ways so I could have my space, and started our long-distance relationship.
A forced one.
I started to get a taste of the sunlight that my buds had been craving. In Seattle, I met an incredible community with whom I shared so many similarities. I had time to finally pick up exercising and writing again. I learned to do things my boyfriend usually would help me with: smashing a bug, fixing a lightbulb, and working on paperwork. With the available space and time to work on myself, I grew in confidence.
However, our relationship was a mixture of guilt, sadness, and confusion. In the first 3 months, I faced 2 opposite forces: intense love deprivation and exciting self-exploration. A painful satisfaction.
At the end of the 3rd month, my tree seems to yearn for the familiar stream of love after being under the sun for so long. My boyfriend and I slowly crept into the rhythm of love again, with hours-long calls every night and hours-long plane visits every other month. After a few months of being by myself, I grew more appreciative of the moments we spent together. We connected through the lessons we learned as two self-sufficient, functional adults. Our love got reignited. We were in the honeymoon phase all over again, as 2 people who owed their identities.
The long distance saved our relationship.
Thầy* Minh Niệm said that there are 2 equally significant needs in our life: the need to be loved, and the need to be free. Sometimes in a relationship, we forget about the latter. We focus so much on the “togetherness” and the need to be loved, that we forget that even in a relationship, we are individuals with different dreams, aspirations, and identities.
The forced long-distance relationship allows my boyfriend and I to build and beautify our own world, before merging our two worlds together. It teaches us that when we have a sense of freedom in identity, we free the space in our hearts to love.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow
- Khalil Gibran
Now that both of our trees are filled with enough sunlight, we are getting ready to stand in the same garden again. We will not be together. We are growing together.
*Thầy is how we refer to a Buddhist monk in Vietnamese. You can hear more about Thầy Minh Niệm in podcast Yêu Lành.
It takes a lot of courage to share something as personal as this, and I’m elated that you and Jay have been able to navigate the forced long-distance relationship! I found it very interesting how you juxtaposed the two different experiences (“my” life vs “our” lives) of a relationship. As someone who had previously been in a... relationship, I never realized that not only was it possible, but also healthy to be able to separate the two. Thank you for exploring a topic not many people are keen to share, and I wish you and Jay a less “forced” long-distance relationship :P