Managing Long-Distance Relationships During Medical School

Before medical school, most of us were aware of some sacrifices that we would have to make. Med school is known for being incredibly time-consuming, with a rigorous curriculum; you expect you'll have to forgo many other commitments in order to excel academically. It's incredibly difficult to maintain any sort of relationship when you can barely get enough time to sleep.

For the first 2 years of med school, I was in a long-distance relationship (LDR). I anticipated that it would be difficult to maintain but was naive in realizing exactly what it took to have a strong connection with my partner.

At first, we planned on talking on the phone every couple of days; however, as time progressed and we both became busier with our respective schedules, this became unreasonable. We were also on opposite sides of the country, which made the time difference a hindrance to coordinating a reasonable time to talk. We made an effort to visit each other every 2 months, but even that became progressively more difficult, not to mention expensive.

Although I'm not yet finished with med school, here are some of the things I learned from my LDR experience:


Open Communication Is Everything

Looking back on this relationship, the single most important lesson that I learned was that communication is paramount. Being on the same page with all of the issues that arise is key to hashing them out and moving past them. The distance makes the communication inherently more difficult.

The first several months were the most straining. We were used to seeing each other almost every day and suddenly had 2800 miles between us; we had to cope with a sense of loss. Eventually, we became more comfortable with the fact that we were not in close proximity, and we were in a stable place. We texted often and would plan "Skype dates" whenever we could.

One of the things I'm really grateful for in this relationship is that, as individuals, we were forthcoming in discussing our issues with each other as they arose. Occasionally, misunderstandings would occur and feelings were hurt, but we were always able to express ourselves with the confidence that we would tackle the issue together—as a team. Being in this relationship meant trying to build an emotional support system that we could both benefit from. At times, this meant being blunt about our feelings. Having a mutual understanding kept us grounded.

The Struggle to Remember What's 'Real'

The scheduling of our in-person meetings and virtual dates became difficult owing to school and other demands. I noticed that the times when we were not able to set a definite date to see other was when we felt the antsiest. Having this amorphous amount of time before we would next see each other sometimes made the relationship not seem "real." I already rarely saw my partner, and if there was no plan to see him again, were we really in a relationship anymore? For those of you in a LDR, having set visiting dates will certainly help alleviate some anxiety.

Another issue was that over time, I felt like I just didn't know my significant other anymore. I spent more time with the classmates whom I saw on a daily basis in lecture and around the hospital. While I was facing shared hardships with my colleagues and building those relationships, the connection with my partner faded. The worst part was that this happened gradually, so I didn't realize it was a problem until we had drifted so far apart that the hole was too large to patch up. We would chat on the phone and find it difficult to find things to talk about. We were living separate lives with little shared meaning. I felt like I couldn't tell him about the entertaining thing that happened that day because he had no context in which to relate to it. I could relay all the events that happened, but without going through this experience with me, they were simply words that had limited value.

The Need for a Paradigm Shift

Once you lose a connection with someone, it's often too late to reconcile the issue without a significant paradigm shift. Personally, I was unwilling to give up my career aspirations to move geographically closer to my significant other. My partner was also unwilling to do the same. We were both striving to reach our goals and were in the early stages of building our careers. We had a mutual understanding that our careers would take precedence, which implied that our relationship would be secondary to that. We tried planning out where we would try to settle down after this stage, but my wild card of applying for residency and then probably fellowship afterward made it even more of an obstacle.

I know there was some resentment coming from both sides as the years went on. It's incredibly difficult to be committed to someone who isn't around to give you the support you need on your toughest days. I felt so alone at times. The stresses of family, school, and struggling to maintain the relationship with my partner took an enormous emotional toll.

Compromise Versus Sacrifice

I can guarantee that in any relationship, compromise is part of the formula to making it work—give a little and take a little. Issues arise when compromise becomes sacrifice. The key difference is that with compromise, both parties are putting in work and making concessions to deal with the issue; however, sacrifice is disproportionate and full of unreasonable taking and giving. Both parties need must be in this equally, or the dynamic of the relationship gets skewed in a way that will lead to animosity.


In the end, the LDR did not work for me. That is not to say it is an impossible feat. If both parties are committed to clear communication and are able to establish reasonable expectations, then the groundwork is set for their LDR to prosper. Several of my classmates recently married after many years of being in a LDR. There is still hope!

LDRs on their own are a formidable opponent, but all of the additional stressors that come from being in med school makes it seem almost insurmountable. The decision to end my relationship was one of the most difficult I have had to make. My partner and I discussed it for a long while before coming to the conclusion that the emotional strain it was putting on both of us was more than the relative gains that we were getting from it. Plus, our apparent situations were not going to be changing in the near future. So we decided it was best to end it amicably before negative emotions became rampant.

Remembering What's Important if It Doesn't Work Out

The month immediately after the break-up was as devastating as expected. I felt like a tsunami had hit me, and I was barely keeping it together. Now that I've had more time to reflect on it, I am incredibly grateful for these experiences.

Ending a relationship is not a sign of failure. Recognizing that your needs are not being adequately met, expressing how you feel, and taking an action to improve your life is the opposite of failing. Moreover, being in the relationship in the first place taught me a great deal about who I was and the qualities that I expect from a potential suitor. The best part of this situation is that I can now focus on the things that I need to do to feel successful and personally fulfilled without having any guilt of not meeting someone else's expectations.


I am learning to be more confident in myself, and I'm finding that my mental health has benefited from pivoting my priorities. Whether or not you're in a romantic relationship, the most important relationship you need to nurture, especially in med school, is the one you have with yourself.




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