Last month I shared my own experience of long distance love and the response was amazing. I can’t believe how many people have spent months, even years apart and across different continents too!
What came across overwhelmingly was how the experience had made you stronger as a couple. As I devoured the comments I started to feel like a big fat fraud. So many people mentioned how amazing it was when they finally moved in together. Well if I’m being honest I would say the first few months of living with the boy were far from idyllic.

If you remember, in a slightly impulsive moment I had quit my job and moved a hundred miles to the Midlands. I’m ashamed to say I really struggled with the whole co-habiting malarky.

I had been petrified about starting a new job but settled in quickly. To this day, the girls I met on my first day are some of my closest friends. So work was fine but home-life was another story. I realised that despite knowing James for over two years, I didn’t really know him. Long distance loving had provided me with an unrealistic expectation about how our relationship would be.

We fought like cat and dog; about the washing up, the cost of the food shopping, how long to lie in at the weekend. You name it we argued about it. The physical and financial pressure of running our first home pushed our relationship to the limit. We were young, naive and penniless and living in the real world was a real wake-up call.

I resenting living in a small town and felt suffocated by my lack of independence. I missed the buzz of city life and most of all my family. Things got better when six months later we moved to a swish apartment in Northampton and I passed my driving test. As our careers progressed, our social circle widened and we made joint friends. We started to split the chores, our financial burdens lessened and more importantly we began to talk more instead of shouting at each other. As our relationship progressed we both learned how important it was to listen and to consider each others needs and opinions.

The turning point came when James’ younger Sister unexpectedly announced she was having a baby. (Now it all becomes clear why there’s a photo of an adorable little girl at the top of this post!) The arrival of our Niece gave me much-needed roots in Northamptonshire. My in-laws had welcomed me in to the family with open arms but becoming an Auntie to Felicity cemented a role for me. As well as helping out with the practical and the fun bits I had a responsibility to join her Mum and Grandmas in being a strong female role model. More than anything James and I both wanted to help the rest of the family provide her with a stable upbringing. My Sister-in-law recently tagged me in a Facebook photo showing Felicity’s glowing school report. I’d be fibbing if I said I didn’t shed a tear. I am so unbelievably proud of her, even if she does insist I sing along to One Direction songs.

“Uncle Jim” and I are now in our fourth home together and looking back now it’s hard to believe I was ever so unhappy. It’s surprising how irrational you can be when there’s a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the piggy bank is empty and you miss your Mum.
Essentially we grew up and got a grip. And both learnt to compromise. Now he’s my most favourite house mate ever.

So enough about me, I need to hear all about your experiences of moving in together. Was it all hunky-dory or did you argue? We were starting off from scratch but how did you deal with moving in with someone who already had an established home? Did it all work out in the end?