6 things I do to keep up with long distance friendships

I’ve been the far away friend a little too often. Most of us have at some point – the one who moved cities for grad school, for a person, a job, a change of pace, for a reason that made sense at the time and sometimes still does.

Leaving New York felt like the first time I really felt the weight of it. It was the city we arrived in for careers, for personal growth, for wonder, for God-knows-how-long. It was the city we planted seeds of ourselves in, in hopes to grow roots.

Then distance, as it does, reorganizes your life a bit. Without a spontaneous coffee, a last-minute dinner, a walk that turned into two more hours of chatting on a bench, oh and do you want to get a sweet treat? there’s a lot of grief realizing time together is now looking a lot different. It becomes more planned, intentional, and structured. Distance also lets us see the friends who show up for us whether they’re across the city or across the country.

Facing (ok, and denying) my reality, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I show up as a friend miles apart again. And, how it’s looked before. My dear Parsons friend and I texted in long paragraphs, sharing novels of our lives, across years and different cities until we finally wound up in the same city. My Chicago friend who landed, years later, mere subway stops away like no time had passed between us. Through every long distance friendship was one of us reaching across the gap, consistently, in small ways that added up.

Here are a few ways to keep up with long distance friendships, from someone a thousand miles apart in both directions. May you find glimmers, and even sweetness, in the distance.

Write cards every month.

I’m a card, letter, and postcard (who would’ve known!?) writer. At this point, I need a separate budget for stamps.

I made it a personal point in January 2024 to send mail to friends once a month. It’s one of those things that started as a fun hobby that quickly became a love language. A tip that changed everything: at the start of each month, sit down and write every birthday card, holiday card, a thinking-of-you note that you want to send out. Address them, stamp ‘em, send them on the 1st of the month. You’ve turned what may have felt like a scramble into a lovely ritual (this is particularly true for birthdays). It’s always something to look forward with a good cup of coffee on the first of the month.

A physical piece of mail is just something that iMessage cannot and will never touch. It’s a gift in these chronically digital days to open a letter addressed to your name.

That said, practical & easy digital moments are real.

Some of the best long distance friendship maintenance happens in thirty seconds, in the middle of a work day.

I love sending a voice note instead of a text. (Though I am guilty of a 4+ minute voice note). I think it’s so endearing to hear your friend’s actual voice — some rambling, a little unpolished, just talking. A string of texts just can’t replicate it. It’s so specific, so personal and it’s the closest digital equivalent to getting a piece of snail mail.

Share the song you just found. Send the photo dump from your WFH Monday — no highlights, nothing special — just being alive, drinking morning coffee, the flowers on your walk, or finally, blue sky. Ordinary stuff closes the gap. It bridges distance by sharing the intimacy of your life lived.

Start a shared Notes. Title it something simple like things we’re loving or this month or just your names. Drop in the book you just finished, the restaurant you keep returning to on Saturday, the best vanilla latte you’ve found, the obscure thing that made you laugh on Tuesday. Let it accumulate. It becomes something you build together like a Notes scrapbook. A quiet, ongoing record of two lives running in parallel even when they’re not in the same room.

Without a doubt, the “this is so you” text. The screenshot, the article, the meme — five seconds to send. I was going on about life and you immediately crossed my mind. That’s the whole thing.

Send something small and unexpected.

Maybe it’s a book you just finished and they’d love it too. Flowers for their first day of a new job. A little sweet treat through DoorDash or UberEats on a day when they’re having a hard one. Or a little Venmo with “coffee on me!” in the memo. It’s small. It’s thoughtful. It says I’m thinking about you in the middle of a Tuesday and my friend, you deserve a little coffee. Just like I would’ve grabbed yours on a coffee date if it weren’t for the miles apart.

The gesture doesn’t have to be big. Just specific.

Make a standing FaceTime date.

Ok, look, I love a spontaneous call. Love to pick up the phone and hear someone’s voice purely because why not call. But I’m also a planner, and life “gets busy.” There’s something I’ve come to deeply appreciate about a scheduled FaceTime or chitchat — the standing Sunday morning call, the monthly catch-up that goes in the calendar as an appointment. A small, reliable landmark in the calendar. It is its own ritual. In between calls, make a little list of the things to gossip, yap, and jaw-drop about together.

Treat it like a date because it is one. (!)

Put a visit on the calendar. Even if it’s months away.

A long weekend. Seven months from now. Doesn’t matter. The act of putting it on the calendar transforms something abstract — we should really see each other — into something tangible. Something to count down to. There’s both warmth and relief that comes from knowing when you’ll be sharing the same physical space again, even when that room is still far away.

The plan doesn’t have to be elaborate. Just make one.

Bonus: Plan a trip together.

This is the one I want to do more of — the most expensive version, the most memorable one. You & your friend/s, a totally different city, a few days carved out of regular life. It asks more of everyone: more money, more calendar coordination, more advance planning. But it gives back more too. A shared place. A new memory that belongs only to that group. A reason to go somewhere you might not have gone alone.

Long distance friendships need fuel. A trip together is a full tank.

The honest truth about staying close from far away is that it requires intention & commitment. Not dramatically, not with grand gestures. Just consistently in small ways that say you’re on my mind, I miss you. If friendship is a garden, every gesture of thoughtfulness can be a drink of water. A card on the first of the month. A few bucks for coffee for coffee on me. A date in the calendar.

Distance is real. And it can suck. But the decision to reach across it is an important one.

To all my friends far away, you’re always on my mind! <3

xx Raye 💌