Distance Says Nothing About Love

Love doesn’t need closeness, only trust, truth, and the courage to let each other go.

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒕, 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚. 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕, 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒐, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔.

𝗗𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

And then, suddenly, you find yourself thrown back into that whirlwind. Or, to be more honest: I throw myself into it, maybe because I have a deep dislike for injustice.

Last night, I was asked about my family ties. About how it can seem as though I live here, while my children are in the Netherlands. The person asking could hardly imagine what that must be like. In fact, they said they could never do that themselves.

As if distance automatically says something about love. As if presence only counts when you physically live on the same street, in the same city, or in the same country.

It is not that I do not miss my children. Far from it. I miss them more than words can sometimes carry. But I have raised strong children. Children who are capable of shaping their own lives, making their own choices, and walking their own path. And where needed, I step in. Always. If they call and tell me they need me, I can be with them within a few hours. Without hesitation, without discussion, without reservation.

But that does not mean I have to abandon my own dream for it.

The simple truth is that my children are walking their own path. A path they choose for themselves. I can support them, help them, advise them, and guide them toward their dreams. But I cannot walk their path for them. Just as no one has ever been able to walk mine for me.

And maybe that is exactly what it all comes down to for me.

I have never been someone who naturally chose the well-trodden roads. Not because I wanted to be different for the sake of it, but because life showed me early on that those roads do not always lead to freedom, happiness, or truth. Sometimes they mainly lead to adjustment. To meeting expectations. To living according to an image others consider socially acceptable, while deep inside you feel yourself slowly disappearing.

At a young age, I was confronted with something I could not yet fully understand: that love between two people is only as strong as the place where they both choose to place their focus. When communication is missing, when understanding for each other’s feelings slowly slips away, it does not only change the relationship between those two people. It also changes the life of the child standing between them. In my case, it changed my growth. It held something back that would only find room to develop again years, maybe even decades, later.

What may have been a conflict, a choice, or a period in life for adults became, for me, a reality in which I had to learn how to survive. And when those same adults later lack the knowledge, the understanding, or the willingness to empathize with what they helped create, yet still place pressure on you to become who they believe you should be, very little space remains. For me, rejection and self-preservation eventually became the only way out.

It sometimes seems difficult to understand that a teenager does not need judgment, but space. Not pressure, but support. Not a prescribed route, but trust. A young person must be allowed to grow into who he could become, instead of being locked into what others find acceptable.

When that space is missing, when the brakes are put on through a lack of empathy, and when society’s steps are made more important than inner development, tension naturally begins to build. Quietly at first. Then noticeably. And eventually, inevitably. Frustration on both sides. Pain. Loneliness. Arguments. War, sometimes without anyone even remembering exactly where it began.

And then there comes a moment when you grow out of that fog yourself. When you begin to understand what happened. Not just on the surface, but deep within. You develop. You grow beyond what some may ever have thought possible. Not from resentment, but from truth. Not to prove anyone wrong, but because you finally understand that you no longer have to betray yourself in order to be understood.

For me, openness and honesty are the foundation of everything. That can make things difficult. Especially when parents, family, or people from your past hold on to beliefs that served as truth for them for many years. Truths that once gave them something to hold on to, but slowly begin to crumble through time, experience, and growth.

And maybe that is confronting. For them. For me. For everyone who believed that love was the same as closeness, that family was the same as something unquestionable, or that a good person always chooses the path others can understand.

But I do not live to be understood by everyone.

I live to remain true to what I now know. To who I have become. To the love for my children, which does not become smaller because of distance. To my own dream, which is not worth less because others do not understand it. To the realization that you can love someone without taking over their path. That you can be present without giving yourself up. And that family is not always proven by where you live, but by what you do when it truly matters.

𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉, 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆.