29/09/2024
Finding Strength in Distance –
A Journey of Love, Patience, and Imperfection"
The past two months have been some of the best, yet hardest, days of my life. Loving someone who’s 10,000 miles away is not easy—it tests your relationship in ways you never imagined. But through the challenges, I’ve learned one thing I’m incredibly grateful for: the way it has deepened our communication.
We’ve been honest about our needs, wants, and even our shortcomings. Our talks have stayed open and raw, where we aren’t afraid to face the truth. I won’t lie—one of the hardest parts has been finding our new home together. Even though we’re continents apart, we both knew what we were looking for, and even made it fun. Searching for a home became more than just about a place to live. It was about priorities—hers, mine, and ours as a couple.
Holly wanted a space big enough for family and friends to visit, while I was thinking about our long-term dream home. Despite the distance, we worked together, sending listings back and forth, talking through what we loved and what didn’t fit. We eliminated the options that didn’t meet our goals and slowly narrowed it down to one. The frustration for me was not being able to see these places in person, but in the end, we found something that checked every box.
Our new home is a cabin, with privacy, a deck, and breathtaking views. We’ll be living right on the edge of a national park, where nature will surround us—possibly even the elusive moose Holly once promised I’d see when I first visited but didn’t. It’s far more than I could have hoped for, and I haven’t even stepped foot in it yet.
But here’s what I’ve learned: even with the stress of being in two different parts of the world—her in Alaska, me in South Africa—the distance has actually made us stronger. It forces you to communicate in ways that being in the same room sometimes doesn’t. You learn more about each other in the quiet moments, the late-night talks, the shared frustrations of planning a future together when you’re miles apart.
Patience is not something that comes naturally to me, but this journey is teaching me that. It’s teaching me that open communication is one of the pillars of a relationship—along with trust. And not just trust in the sense of loyalty, but trust that we are there for each other no matter what. We’ve shared our fears, our traumas, and our pasts, laying everything out on the table. There’s something profoundly beautiful about that—about seeing each other’s scars and still looking at one another with love and admiration.
We all come with baggage. The idea of finding a partner with none is a myth. What matters is finding someone who sees your baggage, understands it, and says, “We can handle this together.” That’s what Holly and I have—an understanding that our pasts have shaped us but don’t define us. We’re building something deeper, more meaningful, and yes, beautifully imperfect.
So, if you’re in a relationship that feels tested, or if you’re facing struggles of your own, know that you are not alone. It’s through these challenges that we grow, both as individuals and as partners. Your perfect relationship might not look like anyone else’s, and that’s okay. It’s the connection, the laughter, the shared dreams, and even the obstacles that make it yours.
Here’s a glimpse of our new, temporary home while Holly serves in Alaska. May this remind you that even in the imperfect moments, there is always love and happiness to be found.
