Six months ago, I was pushed from the birth canal of college and into real adult life. Sometimes, I am kicking and screaming like a minute-old newborn, and other times, I get a little pensive. Mostly, I have been considering how much my existence has changed over these last few months. The most obvious? Less free time. The most affected? My long-distance relationship.
I started dating my boyfriend in January 2026. What could have been a simple senior-spring-fling quickly turned into something with gravitas, and I knew even after we tossed our caps that I still wanted us to be together. Going into graduation, we knew post-grad life would have us on opposite corners of the country: me in NYC and him in San Francisco. We’ve been navigating this new terrain since June, but summer and PTO made the time more manageable. Now, with real work schedules and no syllabus promising winter break, I’m suddenly thrust into a double-whammy of an adjustment: life post grad and the perils of LDRs. Oof.
When it comes to LDRs, outsiders always claim: “It’s worth it, if it’s the right person.” “The time will be up before you know it.” “With FaceTime, it’s so easy these days.” As a physical-affection person, I beg to differ. My boyfriend and I use the TikTok hacks, the apps, and always have our next visit lined up—and it’s still super hard. I’m not alone in this either—I realized many of my coupled-up friends are in the same boat.
Time is not on the side of an entry-level 20-something grinding through both newfound adulthood and corporate ecosystems.
My roommate, whose boyfriend graduated the year before us, got a preview of this transition while she was still in college. She could build her day around classes, clubs, and spontaneous plans; he had a work calendar to answer to. It wasn’t a question of liking each other less, but suddenly they were operating on two different clocks, Ubering from Boston to New York in the dead of night just to spend a few hours together (yes, they were—and are still—that in love). Despite what J.Lo said, I fear that love does, in fact, cost a thing, like a really large transportation budget.
I get my friend’s struggle now. When you mix work, self-care, time with friends, non-dorm commute times, and familial obligations, these rock-solid collegiate relationships can slide into avalanche territory. Gone are the days of low-stakes college romance, riddled with endless leisure, few responsibilities, and built-in fun. Whether you’re an investment banking analyst or an executive assistant, time is not on the side of an entry-level 20-something grinding through both newfound adulthood and corporate ecosystems.
But why should growing up mean throwing out the best parts of young love? In the months I’ve spent in the real world while maintaining a LDR, I’ve learned a few things about keeping a relationship fun, sexy, spontaneous, and laissez-faire—even when Slack and Outlook try to steal all my time and attention.
Flirt on the clock
The back-and-forth text banter we enjoyed during college lectures (instead of paying attention, oops!) just doesn't translate to a 9-5 workday. When my boyfriend and I were in the talking stage, I’d schedule-send reminders, updates, or cute memes, which he said made his day. I still like the idea that a little affection can arrive without requiring either of us to drop the tasks providing our livelihoods. But no matter the status, a scheduled “How was your day?” at a ripe 5 p.m. is undeniably hot. Romance, meet administrative efficiency.
Plan to Do Nothing
I know, for a LDR, this sounds counterintuitive but hear me out. When my boyfriend and I first entered long distance, I felt like every visit had to be maximized, fitting seven dates into one. But what I missed most wasn't the dinners, it was our casual, cuddled-up, unplanned evenings, like splurging on good takeout, watching a movie, going on a walk. On a recent getaway to Los Angeles, I silenced the minute-maximizer in me and we spent an entire afternoon watching movies in bed. Could we have done that anywhere? Yes. But I’ve found that scheduling everything can make relationships feel more like co-working than co-existing. Sometimes the best date has no travel time and no cover-charge.
Visually Close The Distance
When you live across the country, it’s tempting to save every vivid story for the next visit and treat every phone call like a formal relationship check-in. But I don’t want a highlight-reel. I want the mundane updates too: what he ate for lunch, which errand he’s putting off, the petty complaint that would never make it into a romantic recap. In college, we had front-row seats to each other’s mundane. Now, we have a shared album of all the boring shit we do throughout the day, and I get to find new ways to make my morning coffee look artsy. Not every pic needs to be Avedon. But our little digital scrapbook makes me feel like I’m still part of his everyday life, even from 3,000 miles away.
Don’t Put Your Life on Hold Until The Next Flight
There is a particular danger in long distance: turning your entire calendar into a countdown. I love having our next visit to look forward to, but I’m also trying to build a life in New York that fills me up. In my previous LDR, I was a shell of my normally-social self. To me, fulfillment means seeing my friends, working hard, making plans, and not treating every weekend like a waiting room for a better one. The irony is having juicy things to tell each other makes the relationship feel more alive. Keeping busy doesn't mean I miss my boyfriend any less. It just means I have a life worth reporting back on, and more importantly, one that I’m happy with and proud of. So fill up that calendar because your relationship should be a part of your life, not the thing you put your life on hold for.
Lay on the PDA
It’s about time we bring back PDA, specifically “Public-Private-Intimate Displays of Affection.” I’m not saying jump each other’s bones in the park, but I’m done acting like a colonial woman so people like Shane Gillis won't have something to say. Especially with long distance, why shouldn’t I squeeze more kisses into our finite time together? Have that corner-of-the-bar makeout sesh. Foot-stuff under the table? Go crazy!
I used to think the hardest part of graduating would be leaving behind the people and places that made college feel like one long sleepover. I didn’t realize I’d also miss the version of dating that came with it: the accidental run-ins, the spontaneous nights, the luxury of having nowhere else to be.
Long distance has made me more intentional, but it’s also taught me that being intentional doesn't have to be serious all the time. We can schedule flights, send invites, and still act like two kids with big, fat, butterfly-filled crushes. And that’s something I won’t let the perils of adulthood take away.