If you’d told me a few years ago that I’d be in a long-distance marriage, parenting solo while my husband lived in Kenya… I probably would’ve laughed, then cried, then laughed again (because that’s my coping strategy). But here we are. He took a dream job abroad. I stayed back with our two girls, running a business, managing the chaos, and occasionally remembering to put the bin out. It’s messy. It’s beautiful. It’s exhausting. It’s ours.
And over the last 6 months, I’ve gathered a small suitcase full of lessons. So here it is.. the pros, the cons, and the things that keep us connected ( incase you’re ever as crazy as us ).
The Cons (a.k.a. the bits no one talks about )
1. The Time Zone Gap is a Mood Killer.
There’s nothing quite like having an emotional crisis at 9pm only to remember it’s nearly midnight where he is, and he’s asleep (like a responsible adult). Our schedules rarely align perfectly, and spontaneous “I need to vent” calls are rare.
2. Solo Parenting Burnout
No backup at bedtime. No “tag, you’re it” after a chaotic day. No one to hand the batten to while I try to find a pair of socks that meet my girls intense sensory needs. It’s relentless, and I’ve had to actively work on my patience, especially as mornings can be… colourful.
3. The Loneliness Hits in Waves.
It sneaks up on you. One minute I’m fine, thriving, busy with work and life and the next, I’m crying because someone in a film stroked their partner’s hair. Physical touch deprivation is real!
4. Communication Can Turn into Admin
When you’ve only got 30 minutes to talk, it’s tempting to cram in logistics ( especially if you’re married to Dan). School forms, bills, emails.. Which makes the heart-connection stuff get lost.
5. You Can Feel Like You’re Living Separate Lives
When his daily routine is completely different to mine, it’s easy to feel like we’re running parallel rather than together. Like two planets orbiting the same sun but rarely colliding.
6. It’s Harder to Argue Productively
Phone fights are awful. You hang up, you stew, no one slams a door, and you can’t fix it with a cuddle. We’ve learned the hard way to avoid serious stuff when tired, rushed or emotionally crispy.
7. Guilt. So Much Guilt.
I feel guilty when I’m overwhelmed. He feels guilty for not being here. We both carry the weight of “shoulds,” which gets heavy. Guilt is not a love language, but it sure tries to sneak into the relationship.
The Pros (yes, there are real, legitimate upsides!)
1. Deepened Emotional Connection
When physical closeness isn’t an option, you get better at talking. Like, really talking. About feelings, dreams, weird thoughts you’d normally brush off in the chaos of daily life.
2. Increased Independence (for both of us)
I’ve learned I can hold the fort. I can juggle the children, the house, and my business. (Sometimes even in real clothes HAHA!) And he’s doing something meaningful and brave.. it grows us both.
3. Our Girls See Resilience in Action
They’re learning that relationships don’t look one way. That we can support each other from afar. That love doesn’t disappear just because someone’s not in the next room.
4. Time Together Feels Sacred
We don’t take it for granted. Every visit, every call, every message with a silly gif or soppy note.. it hits harder. There’s a heightened appreciation for the little things. ( which makes every goodbye feel harder than the last)
5. Less Room for Petty Arguments
You don’t argue about loading the dishwasher when you’re in different countries. Our limited time together helps us prioritise connection over criticism (well… most of the time).
6. Space to Reflect on the Relationship
Being apart forces us to be intentional. We’ve had to ask. What’s important? What’s worth our energy? What habits are we building when no one’s looking?
7. Rediscovering Ourselves Individually
He’s doing his dream work. I’ve gone on a full health journey, tackled my ADHD head-on, and redefined what success and identity mean to me outside the “wife” and “mum” boxes. That space, while painful at times, has brought growth.
What’s Worked for Us (so far)
1. Making Communication Intentional
We don’t always get it right, but we’ve learned to choose quality over quantity. Ten minutes of real connection is better than an hour of half-distracted multitasking.
2. Sharing the Emotional Load, Even From Afar
We’ve found small ways he can still be present.. from video messages with daily jokes for the girls every morning to encouraging texts when I’m running on fumes. Tik-Toks reminding each other of the dream and end goal to playing interactive uno on a Sunday as a family.
3. Normalising the Hard Bits
We talk openly about missing each other, the exhaustion, and the resentment. Naming the struggle makes it less powerful.
4. Planning Things to Look Forward To
Talking and sending each other all the wonderful things we hope to do when we are back together. Having something on the horizon helps us both cope.
5. Giving Ourselves (and Each Other) Grace
We don’t always respond kindly. We’ve had dropped balls, missed calls, short tempers. But we’re learning that love isn’t about getting it right all the time.. it’s about staying in it.
This isn’t the life I expected. I didn’t imagine raising the girls solo most of the week or longing for someone who’s technically still mine. But here’s the wild truth.. this version of love is teaching me more than comfort ever did. It’s made me braver, more resilient, more appreciative. It’s given our marriage muscles we didn’t even know we needed.
Is it easy? Not for a second.
Is it worth it? Yes
Like Dan said in our wedding vows nearly 6 years ago.. I promise to be worth it.
Worth the wait
Worth the tears
Worth the laughter
Worth the love
The Bakers Adventures 
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