My husband and I did the long distance thing for almost two years before we lived in the same city, and I still remember the exact chair I was sitting in when I realized it was actually going to work. It was a rickety kitchen chair in my first apartment, phone propped against a mug, and we were three hours apart, talking about absolutely nothing important. That was the moment I understood that long distance relationships don’t survive on grand gestures. They survive on the boring, consistent stuff. The daily check ins, the shared calendars, the trust you build one ordinary conversation at a time.
If you’re in the thick of it right now, wondering if the ache in your chest ever eases up, I promise it does. It gets easier when you stop treating distance like an obstacle and start treating it like a season with its own rules. Here are the ten rules that got us through, and that I still see work for couples I talk to today.
1. Communicate on a schedule, not just when you feel like it
Spontaneous texts are wonderful, but they can’t be the backbone of your connection. My husband and I picked a nightly call time early on, usually right after dinner, and we protected it like it was a job interview. Having a predictable rhythm meant neither of us spent the day wondering if we’d hear from the other. It also gave us something to look forward to on hard days. A schedule isn’t unromantic; it’s actually one of the most romantic things you can do, because it says “you matter enough for me to plan around you.”
2. Talk about the mundane stuff, not just the highlights
It’s tempting to only share the exciting news: the promotion, the fun weekend, the big wins. But real intimacy is built in the boring middle. Tell your partner what you had for lunch. Complain about your coworker. Describe the weird dream you had. Those small details are what make someone feel like they’re still living life alongside you instead of just hearing headlines about it.
3. Set a shared goal with an actual end date
Distance without an endpoint feels like drifting. Distance with a plan feels like a project you’re both working toward. My husband and I set a loose eighteen month target for closing the gap, and having that number in our heads changed everything. It didn’t have to be exact; it just needed to exist. If you don’t have an end date yet, at least agree on when you’ll revisit the conversation about one.
4. Visit as often as your budget and calendar allow, and plan the next one before you say goodbye
Nothing softens a goodbye like already knowing when the next hello is. Before every visit ended, we’d book or at least tentatively pencil in the next one. It gave the sadness of the airport somewhere to go. If money is tight, alternate who travels, or meet in a halfway city so the financial and emotional load doesn’t fall on one person every time.
5. Be honest about your insecurities instead of letting them fester
Distance has a way of turning small worries into 2 a.m. spirals. If you’re feeling insecure about something, whether it’s a friend they mentioned or a night they went quiet, say it out loud instead of stewing. I learned this the hard way after going silent for a few days over something small and unimportant, which only made it worse. A five minute honest conversation almost always beats a week of quiet resentment.
6. Build a life of your own where you are
It’s easy to put your whole life on pause while you wait to be reunited, but that’s a trap. Make friends, take up a hobby, say yes to things. Not only does this keep you from becoming overly dependent on your partner for happiness, it also gives you something interesting to talk about on your calls. I took up running during my long distance stretch, and my husband still teases me about the terrible race photos I sent him, but those years gave me a version of myself I’m proud of.
7. Use technology to close the gap in small, creative ways
Video calls are the obvious one, but don’t stop there. We watched the same shows “together” over the phone, played online games, and once did a virtual cooking night where we made the same recipe on video chat and ate dinner “with” each other. Little rituals like that make the distance feel smaller than it is, even if just for an hour.
8. Trust needs to be a decision, not just a feeling
Feelings of trust will fluctuate, especially on lonely nights. That’s normal. What matters is that you’ve made a decision, together, to trust each other regardless of the momentary wobble. My husband and I talked explicitly about this early on: we agreed that trust wasn’t going to be conditional on how we felt that day, it was a choice we were making on purpose. That conversation alone saved us from a lot of unnecessary drama later.
9. Fight fair, even over text
Conflict hits differently when you can’t read someone’s face or reach for their hand. Misunderstandings multiply over text. Set a rule that anything serious gets talked out over call or video, not typed out in a string of increasingly tense messages. And give each other grace: tone is easy to misread when you’re relying on words on a screen instead of a voice or a face.
10. Remember why you’re doing this in the first place
On the hardest days, it helps to zoom out and remember the reason behind the distance, whether it’s a job, school, family, or just circumstances that haven’t lined up yet. Distance isn’t the enemy; it’s just the current chapter. Keep a mental (or literal) list of what you love about your partner and why they’re worth the wait. On the nights I missed my husband most, reminding myself of the life we were building toward is what got me through.
Looking back now, from a house we share and a life that no longer requires a countdown clock, I’m almost grateful for that long distance stretch. It taught my husband and I how to communicate without relying on physical presence to smooth things over, and honestly, that skill has served our marriage well ever since. Distance forces you to be intentional in a way that proximity sometimes lets you get lazy about.
So if you’re in your own version of that rickety kitchen chair right now, phone propped up, counting down the days until your next visit, hang in there. Follow these rules, be patient with yourself and your partner, and trust that the ordinary, unglamorous work you’re putting in now is exactly what will make the reunion, whenever it comes, feel so incredibly sweet.
