Say you meet a handsome stranger one night in the corner of a dark bar. He’s visiting from somewhere else, but something clicks and all of a sudden it’s on. After a whirlwind week where you manage to cram in a months’ worth of getting to know you, he leaves, back to his life and you to yours. The inevitable ennui sets in, but before you chalk this up to another fling with no staying power, do yourself a favor: Consider the adult long-distance relationship. Keep reading »
Those of us with significant others who travel for work often spend days and weeks at a time alone. This solitude can be wonderful — control of the TV, a bed to yourself, tons of quality “me time.” What inevitably happens to us non-traveling partners is laziness. With no one watching, you end up forgetting to do some of the basics. Never fear, your jet-setting lover never has to know! Keep reading »
Long distance relationships are hard. Moving away from someone you love (whether it’s your partner or your sister or your best friend) is super hard. Why not give yourself — and them — a little reminder that your hearts might be farther away now, but you’re always connected? These awesome state silhouette key chains from Etsy seller Nelliebead are personalized with your specific locations and a dotted line connecting the two. Not only are they a cute addition to your key ring, they’ll make you think of each other and smile every time you dig your keys out of the bottom of your purse. Perfect. [$26 for 2 states, Nelliebead]
When you turn 25, it feels like an alarm goes off and all of a sudden everyone is buying houses, getting engaged, and reproducing. Each time I log on to Facebook, I’m met with an onslaught of hearts on the side of my feed that tell me about all the engagements, weddings, and babies that have happened since I last checked in. That’s why everyone gives me the side-eye when I tell them that I’m actually moving out of the apartment that I’ve shared with my boyfriend, Chris, for the past three years and away from the only city I’ve ever called home (I didn’t even leave for college). Not only that, I’ll now be a plane ride away. Chris will stay put in Syracuse, New York, and I’m off to Charlotte, North Carolina, to once again pick out girly shower curtains with a roommate.
Normally when someone moves out of the apartment they share with a significant other, there’s a messy breakup. Clothes are thrown on the front lawn, locks are changed, and one partner may be acting out the entire list of instructions from “Before He Cheats” in the parking lot. In my case, quite the opposite is happening. My boyfriend and I are not breaking up. In fact, he fully supports the move. He’s helped me find apartments to check out, and he’s making the drive down with me to get settled in. The weirdest part is that my job allows me to work from home, so I could technically stay put. But I just can’t accept buying a house across from my high school and calling it a day just yet. There’s nothing wrong with that and a lot of people in my town do it, but I still have some adventure left to get out of my system. When you’ve only lived in one city your entire life, it becomes pretty uninspiring after a while. I need to experience someplace new in order to fully appreciate my hometown and keep growing as a person. Keep reading »
The last man I really cared for made me fee like dating is panning for gold. You just sift through the rocks and dirt and, then, if you’re lucky, you find a little sparkly piece of gold. And you feel special, because you found it.
My sparkly little piece of gold was smart and compassionate and handsome and funny and feminist and sexually dominant. He was an absurd combination of all the qualities I’m looking for, the rare qualities I’m looking for. He spoke two of the same languages as me — my spirit and my body — and the all-too-rare way that made me feel this person might understand me. Not too many men identify themselves on online dating web sites as feminists; even fewer are feminist and sexually dominant.
He also lived thousands and thousands of miles away on the West Coast. Keep reading »
When I tell people, “I live with my boyfriend three days a week,” I often get two reactions.
1. “That must be-um– challenging.”
2. “That sounds ideal!”
The first reaction often comes from a place of concern. How can you have a meaningful long term relationship when you only see each other three days a week? You can’t possibly know what it’s like to have a real, full-time relationship. What is he doing the other four days of the week, hmmm? Thoughts of infidelity run through their heads. How long could a relationship like this last? Keep reading »
Guest columnists and contributors are generously sharing their talents and insights while Wendy is taking some time to care for my new baby. Today’s letter is answered by prolific Dear Wendy commenter and social media consultant, Sarah Huffman.
My year-long relationship recently went long distance. I had gotten into several master’s programs — a few decent ones near him and an amazing one far away — and because of future career potential and pressure from everyone (including him) I chose the more prestigious, far-away program. The problem is that I am completely miserable. I am so in love with my boyfriend and I miss him so much, I don’t know what to do with myself. My school is a lot of work, which adds to the stress level. My fellow classmates go out and have fun – I’d rather get more work done so that I can have a few days to visit the boyfriend. Keep reading »
I was finishing college when I met my husband, Jason*, a carefree, polite Australian with dreamy blue eyes and shaggy brown hair who was on an extended working holiday. The attraction to his laissez faire personality and quirky accent was arguably a naive American girl’s knee-jerk reaction to a breakup with a controlling and insecure Brit. Yet, it is undeniable that our romance was of Hollywood screenwriting caliber. Set in the picturesque town of St. Andrews, Scotland — ironically at the same time and place where Prince William courted Duchess Catherine — I allowed this delicious Aussie, four years my senior, to sweep me off my feet. We strolled hand-in-hand through ruins on the beaches that lined the North Sea, snuck kisses in-between pints at our favourite pubs on Sunday afternoons, and celebrated my graduation from St. Andrews University in the company of my entire family, who embraced him immediately. I knew he was a keeper when he broke into the Royal and Ancient Golf Club where he worked to show me the grandiose dining room, which had banned women patrons centuries ago.
Nonetheless, reality always finds a way to spoil the fairytale. Soon after graduation, I returned to my parents’ house in Connecticut and Jason returned to his native Australia. While most flings abroad are retired, Jason and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we might be soul mates. We agreed to take a stab at our fledging union and if it didn’t work, we would walk away with dignity and respect knowing that we tried our best. Thus began a journey that far outweighed the rarity of our early beginnings as Jason and B.B. Truly, what was most unforeseen was not the juggling of the typical long-distance relationship, but where this brand of relationship took us and the questions we inevitably had to answer. Keep reading »
If you are the hopeless romantic type, this story might appeal to you. Alternately, if you are the jaded, anti-love breakup schadenfreude type, this story might appeal to you, too. This is about the last time I fell over-the-top in love, and the really terrible way it ended. Keep reading »