Guest Post: Living with distance
by MGM
On the day of my graduation I stood on a small bridge that overlooked a stream. Beside me stood my then girlfriend.
“What would you do if I jumped into the water?” She’d asked
“I’d jump on with you,” I smiled.
It was a small simple pact, yet at the time it was also beautiful.
Not many people get to meet the love of their life in high school. Many would probably scoff at the notion. Especially if that relationship would then have to go through four years of long distance.
College changed us, and our relationship, but through it all we stayed together and forged stronger bonds. Long distance, for those who may not be aware, is hard. It involves a lot of growing pains, and in my case a lot of insecurity. Through the distance, though, we learned to support each other. We learned to communicate more directly and honestly. We developed a mutually supportive relationship where we worked together and highlighted each other’s strengths.
We graduated college as the COVID crisis locked down the nation. In midst of the chaos and turmoil we decided to get married. Some of my friends in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints would scoff at the five years it took before we were married. Yet I treasure each and every one of the experiences we made.
We planned to go on to grad school together, however, life happened. I got a job, and that meant I couldn’t go with her. So for our first two years of being married, my wife went to grad school to get her masters.
She got the opportunity to go to an incredible school and do amazing work, but it was also 1,982 miles away. My wife is a continual inspiration in my life. Her drive and passion for what she does makes me a better person. So while I was sad that only a couple months after we got married I had to hold back tears as she drove across the country, I was also excited for her!
These are not life choices most people, especially in the church, would make.
“I could never do that.” Someone would say pity in their eyes as I went to church alone.
“I would never let my wife do that” another would say aghast.
“Ah, I bet your house is a wreck,” someone would say looking down their nose at my slightly wrinkled dress shirt.
I didn’t grow up in the church, though I did grow up in a religion with similar values. So at first I ignored the comments. It was, after all, difficult; I missed her every day. However after a certain point the comments started making me angry.
Implied in the comments was that, I “let” her pursue her dreams. That her career, dreams and aspirations should come second to my own; or that her dreams should revolve around the home and only the home.
As I continued to reflect, there was also an impression I felt of pity. It took me a long time to realize the source of that pity. The pity that I saw in the eyes of many that I came across, came from their belief that I could not take care of myself.
This more than anything else made me upset. I’m not a child. I do not need my wife to be my mother. Though I cleaned the home, though I cooked and cleaned, though I ironed my own clothes, and showed up to church, I was somehow less than the others, because I “let” my wife develop her soul.
Meanwhile, in the same ward we had women whose husbands traveled, left the church, or left them. These incredible women raised kids in the gospel, worked full time, and yet somehow I was more deserving of pity and praise for my perceived struggles. The pity was not Christlike, it was just sexist.
I learned to let go and to try to understand. My only wish in writing this is to bring into focus our need to move society forward. A society where we celebrate, cherish, and grow the gifts Gd has given us. One where we promote and celebrate the achievements of women.
MGM is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day, a husband, a flavor chemist, and an amateur gardener.
