Not Your Average Gal

Copywriter. Content Creator. Constant Sassypants.

Confessions

Long Distance Marriage: 6-Month Check-In

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Hard to believe a little over 6 months ago was one of the saddest days of my life. The one that consisted of waving goodbye to the hubster, quietly shutting the front door, silently sitting in my now emptier living room and crying, while simultaneously stuffing my face with any food within 10 feet of me.

Thus began our long distance journey together.

When we found out in that bittersweet moment on Match Day that the hubster would be doing his ER residency in Michigan, we knew we needed to set up a game plan. That plan was to see each other at least once a month and at the end of 6 months, we’d do a check in to see how we’re feeling about the 1500 miles between us.

So on a warm evening last week, while the hubster was in town, we took a walk around our golf course and discussed how we’re feeling. Now, I won’t go into the nitty gritty because hey, some thing are private, but all-in-all, we’re doing well.

Even if we lived together, we’d rarely see each other. This always seems to blow some people’s minds, but for me at least, it’s reassuring. We both work long hours, sometimes on opposite schedules. That 10-15 minute phone conversation I have with him on my way home? It would be the same if we lived together.

We actually visit each other more than we thought. An unexpected injury, hurricane and days off in a row meant we saw each other once every 3 weeks usually.

Durring Hurricane Matthew.

 

Accept how tired he is. The hubster point-blank has always needed more sleep than me. With 12-14 hour shifts, up to 11 days in a row, when we did talk, the conversations were dull or he actually fell asleep. I mean, I know I’m not that boring… The times we did see each other, he often fell asleep on the couch or in bed while I was working. I try my best to understand. (This past Friday though, when my job let me work remotely so we could be together and he fell asleep on the couch…nuh-uh….mama wasn’t having it. GET UP!)

Have something planned on the horizon. We try to have our next time together planned prior to the current one ending. We have a trip to Cancun coming up (!!!), plus another vacation to plan maybe when he has time off in June. It makes the time go by faster.

Know there will be bad months. December was pretty awful. He was in the ICU and I think both of us underestimated how grueling it would be. Add in that I was tying up loose ends working long hours on holiday campaigns, getting holiday shit gifts together for relatives, and trying to plan a trip to a third world country and, you know, basically it was a giant disaster. We both made assumptions, both were in bad moods (him more so than me, of course. *adjust halo*) and both ended up agreeing that if we knew we were going to be rushed or in a bad mood, to call and catch up another (better) time.

Please know we didn’t come to that conclusion in as pretty of a fashion as it sounded. It was more like, “Mmmmkay, how ’bout I talk to you when you’re human again? kthanxbye.”

The time we do spend together is better spent. We both talked about how actually making time in our calendars to see each other for days at a time, is quality time. Sometimes it’s sitting on the couch watching a movie, but I know the time is limited so I appreciate it more, I guess.

Traveling connects us. Every time I travel with the hubster, I’m reminded why I love that man so darn much.

“I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them, than to travel with them.” – Mark Twain

I’m oddly sentimental about things that used to annoy me. I went into the master bathroom this morning and the toilet seat was up. Awwww, the hubster was here. He left me a pile o’ laundry that smells like him and, you know what, I’m okay with it.

Our summer home is now where I live. He leaves all his shorts and golf gear here until about Mid-May when the snowbirds head back up north for the summer. I also usually get a text before he comes to take a picture of what’s in the closet to she doesn’t overpack. Ha.

Goodbyes aren’t getting easier. Sure, I’m adjusting to the time away from each other, but saying goodbye sucks. Pit of your stomach, want to roll over and go back to sleep sucks. I hear that won’t change. Weeeeee.

 

So that’s it from the home front. Looks like we’re in for another 6 months of long distance love. Buckle up!

Surviving The Holidays Alone

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The holidays are bittersweet for me. I try desperately to enjoy them and sometimes I’m successful. But, more often than not, they tend to be an annoying pebble in my shoe, reminding me with each step of where I seemingly fall on the totem pole.

I can’t remember the last time I spent Christmas or Thanksgiving with family in my own place — it must have been before college. Each holiday brings about another round of travel; if I’m not traveling to see family at their homes, I’m alone. The choice seems to be that “simple.” And, keeping it real, it sucks.

I know I’m not alone in feeling like that, I’ve talked to friends who seem to always have to be the “flexible ones” and leave their homes to visit others.

This year, since the hubster was working every night over Christmas, there wasn’t much of a point in me flying up to see him. With us traveling more to see each other, the logistics of another quick-turnaround-and-head-back trip to travel and see my family wasn’t in the cards. I’ve invited everyone down to Florida, the US mecca of warm vacations, but for some reason or another it never seems to work out. I try not to take it personally because sometimes it’s purely situational. But sometimes I’m left wondering how many times you invite people before you stop because it must be you because you smell or something?

*sniffs armpits*

The holidays have a way of doing that, you know? Problems are a bit magnified. Being alone or left out, you begin to question your own place in your family, your job, your life goals, your burrito from last night, your current choice in fuzzy socks; it can certainly suck you into the vortex of self-pity and doubt. It could have been you with your family, but it’s not, so you better suck it up and deal, chickadee.

So, for anyone else that finds themselves alone on the holidays, this is how I dealt with it.

Plan it all out. What you’re doing each day or what you’d like to accomplish, even if that is going to pick up a cornish hen, since that’s the only bird that’s just the right amount for a dinner for one. This was my day-by-day.

Christmas Eve Eve

Start the time off right — with a good, long walk.

Join the masses at the grocery store to buy your meal-for-one. Laugh with another lady who is deeply annoyed she’s cooking for 11 and show empathy by waving your cornish hen leg at her as you part ways.

Christmas Eve

Go to your friends’ house while they are away visiting family to take care of their kitties and then freak out because you can’t find the one cat that needs to get a pill. Then find her and laugh with her then realize you’re laughing with a cat and cry a little inside.

Go on a virtual date with the hubster and see the movie Passengers.

Spend Christmas Eve with your friend’s family. If you’re lucky, they’ll be Colombian and show you new (awesome) traditions.

Christmas Day

Head to kitty place again and decide that pussy can’t hide from you – success!

Workout on your new exercise bike and do crunches to prepare for the imminent dinner course.

Talk to your dad and step mom while they’re currently trying to get up an icy hill in Minnesota.

Open up the 2 gifts under your tree, one from your dad and one from your sister. Laugh at your husband who accidentally sent your gift to his current address, so you open up your (upcoming) birthday gift that he already sent instead.

New Tieks!!

 

Go to the pool in a Santa hat drinking a Bloody Mary.

FaceTime with your hubster and then the BFFs.

Then FaceTime your brother, sister-in-law and adorable niece who needed to show you all her (naked) Barbies. They were taking a bath, duh.

Call your sister who is also on her way to work in the ICU. (I can’t get away from you healthcare people!)

Make Buffalo Chicken Tater Tots, watch Bridget Jones’ Baby and hit the hay — Christmas is just another day.

Tots and prosecco.

 

Christmas Day (observed)

If you’re lucky, you get one more day off alone.

You crushed half those tots the night before, so hop on the bike again and do some more crunches.

The pool and Bloody Mary are calling your name again, this time lacking a typical Floridian afternoon downpour. Score!

Have kitty parents come over to pick up their house keys and spend some time laughing about how ridiculous med school and doctors are over a bottle o’ wine.

Clean.

Cornish Hen time! Whip up some mashed potatoes and broccoli too for good measure.

Print more shit out for your Cuban adventure and hit the hay — Christmas Day (observed) is just another day.

 

 

Basically, keep busy. I tried to just take care of myself and not let my mind wander. I’ll admit – there were some tears. It would have been great to have been around family, but I got through it and think I tried to make the best of it.

I also know the nay-sayers will wag their judging and unsupportive fingers saying things like, “This is what you signed up for being a doctor’s spouse.” or “I’d love to have a few days off on my own! Sheesh!” Thanks for your unhelpful input, I’ll be sure to write it down and burn it later.

And if that’s not inspiring, perhaps some kind words from JK Rowling will be. She shares many of the same sentiments about the holidays, but expresses it more eloquently than I can:

JK Rowling Christmas Message

Have you spent a holiday totally alone?

A Wedding & A Reminder

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I’m on my way home to Fort Lauderdale, sitting in the Sky Club on a layover in Atlanta. Heart happy. Belly sore from laughter. Tired as a shit, but full of appreciation.

My lounge game is strong lately. #skyclub

A photo posted by Caroline, Not Your Average Gal (@notaveragegal) on

My dear friend, whom I’ve known since middle school days, got married this weekend in Houston. We affectionally call him “Texas” because on his first day in middle school, he wore a cowboy hat. May I remind you I went to school in Michigan. Ah, that (now married to a gorgeous lady) guy.

It was a reunion of sorts with people flying in from all over.

I’ve known some of these guys since elementary school.

Went to high school and college with a bunch of these gals.

We danced to pop songs from the early 2000’s and sang I Want You Back by *NSync at the tops of our lungs. We talked about the funny things their children are saying and doing now. We shared heartache over aging parents and family health problems. We talked about how we’re going to head back to England for my 10-year wedding anniversary and effectively set the 7-year countdown. We talked about how difficult and lonely being a doctor’s wife can be. I really missed the hubster, who was stuck in the ICU working, this weekend.

We relived a bit of our once-carefree life, even if only for an evening. It was epically wonderful. I would never want to go back to those awkward middle school years, even college days, if I were being honest. But, man, being with people who know you, truly know you (and still keep you around) filled my heart with contentment.

I’m not sure I realized quite how much I needed that reminder. The reminder that I have good friends. That I am a good friend. That we have shared wonderful (and sometimes shitty) moments together. That no matter the time or distance, some things will never change and in my ever-changing world…it’s exactly what I needed.

There is a line in a graduation speech Baz Lurman gave  (Yes, the one that was made into a tacky 90’s-pop song) that still sticks with me to this day:

“Understand that friends come and go
But a precious few, who should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle
For as the older you get, the more you need the people
You knew when you were young.”

I’m so grateful to have that.

 

 

Pardon the lack of usually spectacular images; I wanted to spend my time making memories instead of lugging my digital camera around capturing them. I know you understand. :)

How That Long Distance Marriage Thing Is Going

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The reactions to us announcing we’d be living apart while the hubster starts his ER Residency were somewhat varied. Some people were supportive and great. And some people left me thinking, “You know, people can be real aholes sometimes.”

Just about 3 months ago, the hubster left South Florida for the frozen tundra of Southeast Michigan. I won’t get into the details of that day. It was a blurry mess of ice cream, tears and lots of reality trash TV to keep my mind off of having just waved goodbye to my husband.

I’m asked about it a lot, so here we go.

How are we doing with living apart?

We’ve seen each other about once every 3 weeks. I’m flying there or he’s flying here. Flights haven’t been too obnoxiously priced just yet and we all know the thrill I get just flying for funzies, so I’m totally okay with it. Right now, though, we don’t have any flights planned until the beginning of November. <deep breath>

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I had to learn how to depend on myself from a very young age. The transition back to living alone wasn’t as frightening as everyone was trying to convince me it would be. I know I have a unique history, but being on my own wasn’t the scary part. Choking on a piece of steak and not having anyone to do the Heimlich on me, now THAT scares me more.

Med school prepared us well. I truly believe people either didn’t believe me when I said you have to be okay being alone when you have a med student spouse OR they truly don’t understand the grueling hours involved in becoming a doctor. Very often he’d be 10 feet away in his office, but utterly unavailable to have a normal conversation. Sort of like what we’re doing now.

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With his current schedule, I’d barely be seeing him. He was working night shifts there for awhile and we’d really have to figure out our phone calls. It basically was me talking to him for 15 minutes while I was leaving work and he was heading into work. If we lived with each other – I wouldn’t have seen him anyway.

Planning ahead prevents misunderstandings. We learned we needed to layout when we’d have our Facetime calls or phone calls ahead of time. This helps because his schedule can change week to week and I’m also type-A and want to scream when the phone rings just as I’ve sat down for the first time all day. (I swear I’m lovable.)

Creativity is key. We went to the movies together this weekend. 1,300 miles apart. We saw Sully. HIGHLY recommend it. You’ll be fist pumping, “America, F*ck yeah.” as you’re leaving.

We’ve had our moments. This past week, after especially unnecessarily mean things happened at work, not being able to exercise due to my ankle, a lack of response from someone I reached out to which has me feeling like crap, and quite frankly, coming home unable to just hug my husband, I had a meltdown. Full on, ugly-cry meltdown. The hubster listened and encouraged me. (And I was somewhat thankful he wasn’t witnessing it.) I’ve noticed when I’m feeling down, it stings more when he’s not here.

We’ve said we’ll do a check-in with each other every 6 months to see how it’s going and reassess anything if necessary. So far, so good.

I mean, you guys, I put something in the fridge and it’s in the same damn place when I go back! HELL YEAH!

We’re Moving! …Except For Me.

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Been quiet ’round these parts, eh? Hasn’t been too long, but there’s a big ol’ reason why. Brace yourselves, this is big news.

Nope, not pregnant. Sorry, mother-in-law, co-workers, gal pals, and that random grocery store bagger.

My husband got matched for an ER residency.

WTF is a match, you say? I’ll break down med school into 10 super fun, super easy steps.

How Med School Worked

  1. Work you fanny off to get into med school
  2. Get rejected for 2 years
  3. Get into med school
  4. Move 1,400 miles away to Florida from Michigan
  5. Work your fanny off in med school
  6. Decide you want to specialize in Emergency Medicine when you graduate
  7. Pass lots of board exams that cost thousands of dollars not included in student loans
  8. Apply to 24 Emergency Medicine residency programs at hospitals around the country
  9. Stress that your name is on a list at a hospital that wants you too
  10. Pop some bottles because you’re going to be an ER doc since you matched at a hospital!

In Michigan.

1400 miles away.

It’s immediately a binding contract, folks.

8 years ago.
9 years ago. Babies.

 

My initial reaction was pure joy. I honestly can’t describe to people outside the medical community how difficult this road is. The path alone is difficult, as it should be, I mean, reality check, you’re learning to save lives. But there’s an underlying, unyielding cutthroat atmosphere most people don’t know about. There’s always a concern the stars won’t align and you’re basically screwed out of doing a speciality you’ve trained for f*cking years to do.

Don’t believe me? I know 2 people in my husband’s med school circle alone with outstanding board scores, GPAs, extracurriculars, nobel peace prizes, nieces selling girl scout cookies and whatever else hospitals are looking for in residents, and they still didn’t make the cut.

So let’s rewind a little…

Match Day

On Match Day, we eagerly awaited the almighty email you get if you’ve been matched at a hospital for residency. I was putting the last dish into the dishwasher before I packed up to leave for work at 7:30 am (that makes me sound way more domestic than I am *adjusts domestic goddess halo*) when the hubster came over and showed me his phone. It was an email.  THE email. He had been matched. In Emergency Medicine! I have not seen that sort of smile from the hubster in nearly 2 years.

2 f*cking years.

Think about that. Let that seep into your mind. 2 years of unwavering stress.

It was the smile of pure joy.

We hugged. Cried. Hugged some more.

Screamed. Scared the ginger kitty. Hugged some more.

There were several sighs of relief as we crashed on the couch and the weight of 10 years of trying finally lifted from our chests.

Then that bittersweet knot filled my throat.

Detroit Love
Detroit Love

Michigan. Another move. Another 1400 miles. Away from a job I love. A career I’ve really solidified. Away from 300+ days of sunshine. And palm trees. And a career. And sunshine. And palm trees. And did I mention sunshine?

Michigan. A place I loved. A place that for 25 years molded the badass not your average gal that I am today. Where family and friends still live. But still a place we probably have no intention of living permanently. (Residency isn’t forever.)

While we always knew it was a distinct possibility that he’d get placed outside where we live in Florida, some outlying factors basically cemented the deal over the course of the last year. So when we got the news about a month ago, it wasn’t all that surprising.

It was a situation we had discussed previously at length.

We knew what this match meant.

We’ll be living long distance from one another.

Humping on the streets of Detroit is encouraged.
Humping on the streets of Detroit is encouraged.

A Long Distance Relationship

The hard reality is my current job as a senior copywriter may have the ability to work remotely, but not full-time. I have responsibilities that require some face time in the office. I’m also not close to a point in my career that I have the flexibility of picking up and moving however far away for however long and still maintain the same type of salary and title. I’d love to be able to open up my laptop and talk to some clients from an office or a tiki hut and ultimately I’m working towards that. But that’s not the reality of it currently.

I’ve also carved out a nice little niche for myself in my current company. I like where I’m at – and I’ve honestly never been able to say that in the 13+ year of marketing experience I have. I’m open to other career possibilities and sure, things can change 6 months or a year from now, but being happy at my job is important to me.

So is the hubster.

So after a bit of contemplation, I pulled my boss aside a bit ago and explained the situation. Without hesitation, he was supportive and understanding. I will have the flexibility to work remotely on certain days so I can fly and see the hubster (and he can see me), as well as take time off when necessary, so I can remain here, in Florida.

CAN YOU IMAGINE ALL THE FREQUENT FLYER MILES I’M GOING TO RACK UP?! Boo-yah.

A wedding in England.
A wedding in England.

Mixed Feelings

I’m nervous.

I’m not sure what the first 6 months will look like living apart. I’m not sure how I’ll feel this time next year. But as I told my boss, it will be a learning process that we’ll take 6 months at a time and then do a checks and balances to reevaluate.

I’m sad.

I think about the fun times the hubster and I have had in Fort Lauderdale and I’m going to miss the life we’ve created here together.

Truth be told, though, med school didn’t allow for much of a constant companion over the past 4 years. I’ve mentioned before here that you need to be okay with alone time if your partner is in the medical field. There were and still are hard sacrifices to be made.

Angkor Wat, Cambodia
Angkor Wat, Cambodia

 

But that said, I’m obviously going to miss the comfort of a having my main squeeze around. We’re a damn good team when both of us are present. So the thought of building a routine without him nearby is scary.

I’m also totally the gal that thinks a burglar, donning black and white striped clothes and a matching cap, has broken into our condo only when I’m neeeekid in the shower. So this should be fun!

Plus, even sadder, now I’m solely responsible for taking out the trash. Son of a bitch.

Don’t Do Tomorrow’s Dishes.

Birthday on the beach.
Birthday on the beach.

 

None of this is officially happening until July.

I’m going to enjoy the next few months with him here and make the most of it. We’ve already put together a shared Google Doc for Things to do in Fort Lauderdale Before the Hubster Leaves. Because, you know, helllloooo, I’m Caroline Type A Peterson.

In May, we’ll get to celebrate his long-awaited graduation. In June, we’re traveling to South Korea and Japan for our farewell tour. Get it? See what I did there? More on that later…

After we get back, I’ll most likely be his back seat driver on the way up to Michigan and then grab my one-way ticket back to Florida to begin the long distance relationship life.

<deep breath>

When all is said and done, the hubster supports my chosen career as I’ve supported his. I think that’s the most important nugget in all of this.

1400 miles or not.

Bring it.

 

Any words of advice or support from the peanut gallery? (Psst. That means you guys and gals reading this.)

Take Care of Yourself Amidst the Chaos. Do it.

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I found out some news about 6 days before I left for the other side of the world on a trip I had been planning for months. It was the type of information that’s life changing; the kind that makes you feel like you’re walking outside your body for days on end. I couldn’t eat much, I was caught staring out my office window, I had friends calling and texting me consistently, I kept myself from tearing up at a moments notice by just getting outside and going for a walk.

There was even one night that it was raining and I knew I just needed to. get. the. hell. out. after my heart and mind started racing. So, I circled our little community pool area that’s on a concrete island of sorts in the middle of our neighborhood, umbrella in one hand, tissues in the other. I just circled until I could breathe better again.

All this and I needed to hop on a 14 hour flight alone in less than a week for a trip I’d been planning for months…

I’ve mentioned 2015 was an incredibly tough year for me and this event was one of the major contributors. I contemplated for only a moment about canceling another trip but knew, in my gut, that would be the wrong decision. This event wasn’t caused by me, it was something that happened to me and canceling a trip would have zero effect on changing the circumstances. I needed to accept that I’d have to cope with this news on long flights and in new foreign territories.

This is my roundabout way of telling you that life is so often split up into Befores and Afters…and you can often negotiate the After portion. Before you went to high school. After you graduated college. Before you met your wife. After you got married. Before you had kids. After you pulled your hair out.

Things like that.

This was one of those Before and After moments.

I had to choose, in those 6 days, to not let the After define my trip I had so desperately needed, especially now. It was an active choice, let me tell you. Emotions were running high (still are if I’m being honest – it comes in waves) and I knew I needed to focus.

So I typed my little fingers off until I felt better. Oh, I typed and typed. I watched sappy Hallmark Christmas movies alone, in an empty house with an often empty glass of wine.

Wine and fantastically cheesy #hallmarkchannel Christmas movies. #mykindoffridaynight

A photo posted by Caroline| Not Your Average Gal (@notaveragegal) on

I cried. You know, that ugly cry that only your cat gets to see. I chose exactly what I was packing in my carry-on for 2 weeks, even down to packing and repacking meticulously 3 separate times. I reminded myself that the solo portion of my trip would be life-defining in itself and I needed to power through. I went through old photos on Facebook and smiled.

I changed the direction of my circumstances. Sure, albeit, temporarily. But it worked. I had a wonderful, much needed trip that absolutely, without a doubt, changed my life for the better.

I know many of you may be thinking that it would be easy to just take a jaunt to a foreign land when shit hits the fan (hey that sort of rhymed!), but that’s not how I operate. I’m not good at compartmentalizing my emotions. I want to analyze them, work through it and learn a lesson from it. There just wasn’t enough time to do that in this situation before I left and boy, was I pissed about it. I knew I’d be thinking about it a lot on my trip I was so looking forward to. I didn’t want it to damper my time away and truth be told, I knew it would at times. (And it did.)

So, I actively chose perseverance. I put my big girl pants on and boarded a plane alone that flew me over a giant pond for 14 hours and plopped me right where I needed to be.

Sure, there were tears that came up at weird moments. Like, you know, in the middle of a vineyard on Waiheke Island, New Zealand with my girlfriends closely watching over me, ready to offer comforting words…or more wine. Or on my flight to Hong Kong while watching Ricki and the Flash after the flight attendant continued to fill my glass with champagne. (PSA: Don’t watch that movie if you have a tumultuous relationship with your mother and are drinking champagne at 40,000 feet.)

In those moments where you question if you should take care of yourself amidst chaos — do it. God, trust me, do it. Persevere. Tell your emotions you will deal with them as they come, but for you, for now, you’re putting your feet up in business class, cheers-ing to what you just went through and enjoying yourself regardless of the shit thrown your way.

BeforeandAfter

You’re worth it.