Love does not consist of looking at each other’s body parts but holding each other’s gaze (Shenoy, 2015, p. 42).

Love longs for closeness, desire thrives on distance (Perel, 2017).

8.1 Love and Sexuality: A Contextualisation

The first epigraph illustrates the complexity of love by highlighting the gaze, critical viewing of each other by the lovers and not the bodily dimension. It may be considered a paradoxical opening quotation for a chapter related to physical intimacy, considering sexual desire as a decisive feature of human existence, with its variability, joys, and pitfalls (Giles, 2008). The second epigraph directs attention to enhanced desire when apart. The chapter deals with missing sexual intimacy in LATT couples during periods of living apart, and ways of coping with it, including online sexual activity and sexting. Chap. 3, under the subheading ‘Sexual Intimacy-Related Dynamic,’ revealed that despite some academic focus on sexual aspects in the study of intimate relationships, there are still limited studies.

Covering sexual practicesFootnote 1 and distance, the studies revealed significant paradoxes, such as the modernising of sexuality in Western societies has led to untraditional, ‘deviant’ forms of couple relationships, such as LAT couples, among a limited population (6–10%), while the majority probably still follow traditional sexual norm (Graugaard & Fischer, 2019, Oxlund et al. 2019) implying cohabitation under the same roof for intimate couples. The study about sexuality and long-distance couples (Goldsmith & Byers, 2020) in Chap. 3 concluded their more frequent engagement in sexual maintenance behaviour than cohabiting couples. They engage more frequently in sexual activity together and in online sexual activity, including sexting, a digital technology communication creating sexual intimacy through words and visuals (Goldsmith & Byers, 2020). A possible explanation is that engaging in sexual activity with one’s partner upon reunion is a way to reconnect with—retrospective behaviour, and/or a part of “goodbye rituals”—prospective behaviour. Similarly, online sexual activity maintains a sexual connection when the partners are apart.

Hewitt and Shulman (2011) conclude that culture, not human nature, brings about a variety of sexual expressions relevant to comprehending physical intimacy, which has relevance for exploring sexual relationship maintenance for LATT couples. How does culture shape these human sexual preferences and conducts? In the last century, feminist movements and seemingly absolute norms have been altered, redefined, rejected, and replaced sexual conduct, though only to some extent and in some parts of the world. Feminist research shows that the expansion of women’s rights does not proceed automatically and must not be taken for granted. On a global scale, it is evident that the precariousness of women’s rights is influencing their sexual behaviour to some extent (Feminist and Gender Theories, 2021). Moving from the sociological feminist theories to the psychological ones, we can see that multiple sexual behaviours are related to intimacy and distance. Holmes (2014), argues that virtual connections are related to solid ties, but such virtual relationships most typically become or are connected to “offline” ones, so they don’t provide all the answers to the sexuality and distance questions. It is thus vital to explore LATT couples’ views and understandings regarding maintaining sexual intimacy without bodilyFootnote 2 immediacy.

8.2 Sexual Intimacy: Newer Patterns

Focusing on sexual practices in the age of digitalisation and changing practices of intimacy in the past decades foregrounds individuality (Giddens, 1992) which is contested by dyadic relationships (Duncan & Carter, 2013; Holmes, 2014). To further probe the phenomenon of intimacy and distance, I bring in the relatively new patterns related to online sexual activity and relationship boundaries through strategic empirical studies conducted in 2021 and 2020, respectively, before analysing my study participants’ narratives.

While considering my knowledge about online sexual activity, prior to researching for this book, I assumed that mainly the young people engaged in it and not the elderly (persons over 60 years) and more males than females. The results of Ballester-Arnal et al. (2021) studyFootnote 3 from Spain demonstrate that online sexual activity was highly prevalent across all ages. This is contrary not only to my prior knowledge but also to the traditional wisdom of how online sexual s change across the life course, assuming young people to be more digitally literate than older adults (the age-related digital divide), However, regarding gender, I was not surprised. Gender-wise, there are also significant differences, with almost all males engaging in it, while 80% of young and middle-aged and 35% of elderly females engaged on the Internet for sexual purposes.

Moreover, including the following three categories by Ballester-Arnal et al. (2021) for placing online sexual activities is relevant. The first category, “solitary-arousal activities,” refers to online sexual activities that increase subjective sexual arousal and do not require contact with other users to be conducted, such as pornography. While the second category, “partnered-arousal activities,” comprises online sexual activities oriented to increase subjective sexual desire and require contact with other users, such as engaging in sexual contact through chat or webcam. The last category, “non-arousal activities,” refers to online sexual activities that do not increase subjective sexual arousal and are typically conducted alone (e.g., looking for sexual information online). Engagement in online sexual activities is much more prevalent across the life course, according to the aforementioned study, which refutes the age-related “digital divide” in Spain in the Global North context. As a point of departure, an analytic generalisation makes it possible to assume similar patterns of online sexual practice among my research participants, mainly in the Global North.

Another newer pattern, specifically regarding intimacy and distance, discusses relationship boundaries. Most long-distance couples discuss relationship boundaries with their partners, and 92% described their relationships as monogamous, representing emotional and sexual fidelity. A few participants, 7.8%, described their boundaries as ‘consensual non-monogamous (CNM) relationships’ (emphasis added)—open, swinging, polyamorous, or other a category, according to an online study conducted in Canada.Footnote 4 McRae and Cobb (2020). At the same time, there are patterns of commonalities between couples living together and long-distance couples regarding relationship satisfaction and stability. However, there may be different challenges and complications in communication due to different time zones, maintaining sexual intimacy, managing jealousy, and experiencing more extreme emotions. Increased relationship maintenance behaviour contributes to meeting these challenges, implying additional motivations for discussing relationship boundaries before physical separation.

Open sexual relationships (only sexual), while separated, but exclusive while together by McRae and Cobb (2020) is an illustration. This finding resonates with other research that suggests that only a small proportion of the Canadian population is currently in CNM relationships. Overall, living together heterogeneous couples are less likely to discuss boundaries than long-distance couples. Thus, it is significant for clinicians, educators, and researchers to understand the forms and motives of boundary discussions among intimate couples, especially when dealing with LATT couples. I take this issue further in Chap. 11 of this book. Sexual boundary discussion, a salient but under-researched aspect of sexual intimacy, is valuable for my study, as the sexual exclusive and open/ CNM relation provide beneficial concepts for the current analysis. In the next section, I analyse my study participants’ experiences of LATT relationships’ bodily sexual aspects, including online sexual activities, sexual exclusivity, and open/CNM relationships. As in real-life, emotional, and sexual aspects are deeply intertwined, so my separation of these concepts here is primarily analytical. For analytical purposes and profoundly exploring the various components that constitute the phenomenon of LATT couple relationships, the focus is on the predominant styles and strategies of physical intimacy and its maintenance. I accept the complexities and dynamic nature of sexual practices, and there is no intention of presenting these complex, dynamic processes here in a rather two-dimensional, unchanging way. My analysis places the participants in two categories with different dominant features, which are not totally mutually exclusive:

  • Foregrounding physical intimacy.

  • The couples with variation in physical intimacy significance between the partners.

Based on the significance of sexuality and physical intimacy, especially in their ability to cope with missing physical intimacy, the narratives of the participants, Vivi and Anna, the youngest participants, are analysed as those who foreground physical intimacy. At the same time, middle-aged Ken and Nina’s LATT relationship is characterised by a salience attached to physical intimacy when they are together. Narratives of relatively young David and Theo, one of the three same-sex couples in the empirical study, also foreground sexuality and physical intimacy through invoking ‘open’ sexual relationships during the 1½ year LATT period of their almost six years intimate relationship. They constitute the only couple engaging in consensual non-monogamous (CNM) relationships involving open and geographically separated relationships. I interpret it as foregrounding the sexual aspect of their LATT relationship.

While the interpretive analysis of other narratives points to a varied pattern among the spouses in the LATT relationship, some LATT couple members attach a noticeably different level of significance to physical intimacy. For Gert, physical intimacy is paramount, though not for Sara. Neeta and Sid, both partners interviewed separately, showed a remarkable variation in their articulation of sexual maintenance behaviour. Both emphasised their emotional and relational continuity, yet only Neeta focused on telephone sex to maintain sexual intimacy during the LATT period. Lena’s narrative sheds light on a LATT relationship, where her partner Pedro hardly focuses on sexual intimacy during periods of geographical separation through the eight years of their LATT relationship. Lastly, I include Mia’s narrative about being a LATT couple in the 1980s, directing attention to how physical intimacy was created through written “love letters” in pre-Internet times.

8.3 Foregrounding Sexual Intimacy

Vivi, Ari, and Anna, Boris foregrounded sexuality through the high significance attached to bodily intimacy and an explicit longing for sexual intimacy in the LATT situation leading to engaging in online sexual activity. This was managed through Skype, text, and voice messaging, focusing on OSA, including sexting, a digital technology communication focusing on creating intimacy through words, pictures, and visuals.

“We were both two very sexual persons”—Vivi and Ari

For Vivi, 27, from Italy, the LATT relationship with Ari, 25, from Israel, which lasted for a year, was not planned. She had witnessed her parents as a LATT couple for 15 years and did not want it for herself. However, she and Ari had a mutual attraction when she met him through some shared friends in Kenya, where they both were living and working. Later, Ari moved to South Africa due to the work demands. At the time of the interview, Vivi was an intern for the United Nations in Denmark, and her relationship with Ari had ended two months before. She was dating a Dane she had met through the dating platform Tinder and explained her motivation for the research participation. “Yes, I was so happy to be a part of your study exactly for this reason [to share the experience of when I was together with Ari] - I can put my struggle to use.”

When questioned about sexual intimacy in the LATT relationship with Ari, she highlighted that they shared a “lot of chemistry,” a phrase resonating with Sternberg (1986)’s conceptualisation of “passionate love” and the Soulmate theory (Debrabander, 2017; Frank, 2020). At the same time, she underlined the flip side of this intense sexual matching, which they missed if they were geographically away from each other.

It was [distance sexual intimacy] because we were both very sexual persons. And there was a lot of chemistry between us, so being together physically is very important in the relationship for both of us. So, the distance also meant sacrificing that.

She further emphasised the embodied aspect of their relationship when questioned about the constraints of being in an intimate relationship characterised by transnational distance. The sexual togetherness expressed through the “chemistry” metaphor was hindered due to distance and additionally exacerbated by Ari's limited competence in digital communication in sexual matters, contrary to a high level of “partnered-arousal activity” for the young adult male category delineated by Ballester-Arnal et al. (2021).

The biggest constraint was the sex – absolutely or the lack of it.… The lack of possibility of expressing that type of energy that we both had was a big downside. For two reasons, we had a great way of expressing the energy when we were together, and on the other side, especially because it was hard for him to communicate and feel comfortable communicating these things online.

However, online sexual activities, especially sexting, including partnered-arousal activities (Ibid, 2021), were significant for sustaining intimacy when they were away and revealed that they adapted to the cycle of departure, separation, and return (Stafford, 2005) to some extent.

Sexting… Yeah! A long-distance relationship, I think, means that you have to do it. It was always about reminding ourselves of situations where we were or when we went - the trip to Zanzibar that was kind of a honeymoon. So, it reminded me of situations in which we had intimacy and physical contact.

She added nuances to her reply by identifying that visuals were limited as they were aware of surveillance and social media insecurity. Vivi focused on recapturing the pleasant sexual memories implying arousal in the partner through words. This limitation of visuals is understood as the negative side of digitalisation, leading to new concerns and conflicts (Turkle, 2011; Grimshaw, 2017). “Because we are both very concerned with privacy, we were never really comfortable sending pictures….it was mostly about writing and describing.”

The relationship was dissolved by Vivi, among other reasons, Ari’s religious background as a Jew and Vivi’s Christian Catholic religious background meant formal conversion to Judaism for marriage in Israel. In addition, Ari hardly provided support for Vivi's relocation to Denmark.

Still, she considers distance, lack of physical intimacy, and the expression of emotional support through bodily interactions to be one of the main factors in breaking up their LATT relationship while valorising the ‘chemistry’ she had with him. Her response illustrates the coexistence of contradictory emotions. Vivi describes a polarisation in her interaction with Ari into emotional and physical, which I have earlier criticised as too simplistic.

It [support] was part of the reason the relationship failed because I felt that I was being supportive but that he wasn't supportive at all, especially when I moved here. However, of course, it is always my point of view, so I am sure he would tell the story differently…. He did not have this very easy access to his emotional side. If you were next to each other, he would hug me or have very physical ways of reaching each other and supporting each other…. The chemistry I had with him, I never had with anybody else.

The breakup of Vivi’s LATT relationship shows that a high significance of physical intimacy coexisting with limited emotional intimacy can be a barrier to long-term LATT maintenance. The centrality of emotional intimacy is highlighted as follows:

Being in a long-distance relationship means you couldn't be physically intimate with your partner for long. This makes it all about emotional intimacy. The bond you share emotionally without being physically in touch tells how much your love can stand any barriers (Benefits-of-a-long-distance-relations, 2021, p. 1).

“So, we were sending some pictures and text...” Anna and Boris

Although there are some demographic similarities between Vivi’s narrative and the following narrative by Anna, both emphasising physical intimacies, the difference in their intimacy maintenance is also explicit. Anna, 24, from Italy, was, in a LATT relationship with Boris, 31, from Belarus, whom she met through Tinder in Italy and then moved to Denmark. First, she was an Erasmus exchange student, followed by an internship at the United Nations. Unfortunately, just ten days before the interview, Boris had just broken up with Anna as he returned to his ex-girlfriend. Anna emphatically mentioned that they met almost every weekend in different cities because the initially planned time interval of three weeks between face-to-face meetings was very difficult to manage emotionally.

Before leaving, we promised each other that the maximum time slot without seeing each other would be three weeks, but actually, we found out that it was definitely too much. Therefore, we started booking flights and so every weekend. That is why we travelled a lot, looking for the cheapest flights. Trying to go where it was a little bit cheaper, where we had friends that could also work…. Brussels, Edinburgh, Berlin, Amsterdam...We travelled from Spain to Portugal.

She later explained the highly pleasurable sexual experience of the time spent together during the weekly face-to-face meeting, resonating with adapting to the cycles of frequent departure, absence, and separation (Stafford, 2005). The memories of the sexual experience together contributed to coping with the separation period on average, five days before the reuniting, “… But of course, being 24 h or 48 h altogether during the weekend was like… It was like a thrill for the week after. That the time helped for the week after where we were apart.”

I interpret her narrative as demonstrating that their physical intimacy was meaningful for her. Highlighting the resources invested, she considered their frequent meetings highly valuable, despite the hectic schedule after five days of work in a demanding setting.

… I wouldn't have put so much effort if I didn't believe in it. I felt very involved in this relationship. So, it was... Sometimes a little bit stressful because you work the whole week and then it is always... I got off from work here and went straight to the airport to take the flight and then came back on the flight at six in the morning of Sunday and... always travelling. It was stressful, but it was worth it to me.

When questioned about maintaining sexual intimacy during the periods of separation, Anna highlighted the synchronous information technology delineated in Chap. 3 and implied online sexual activities of the category “partnered-arousal activities” (Ballester-Arnal et al., 2021), approximately once a week. I place Anna, 24, in the young adult category, characterised by increased “partnered-arousal” online sexual activity, such as “having sex online via webcam’ (Ballaster-Arnal et al., 2021, p. emphasis in the original text). Her experiences resonate with Whitty and Carr’s (2006) contention about online sexual activities consisting of cybersex, generally understood as synchronous communication in cyberspace, where two (or more) individuals engage in discourses about sexual fantasies, typically accompanied by masturbation.

Moreover, Whitty and Carr (2006, p. 21) quote Turkle (2011), “Many people who engage in netsex say that they are constantly surprised by how emotionally and physically powerful it can be. They insist that it demonstrates the truth of the adage that ‘ninety per cent of sex takes place in the mind’.”

Well, usually, we had just five days apart. Four days apart, so we usually had one night with a Skype meeting. Maybe like twenty minutes were enough, or thirty minutes… So, we sent some pictures and texts… without clothes or intimate photos. More photos than texting.

Anna also pinpointed gender differences in their online communication: relatively fewer online sexual activities from Boris, which contrasts with the gender pattern presented by Ballester-Arnal et al. (2021), underlining higher time and frequency among males than females. She attributed this difference to his personality feature: …” he has always been more reserved regarding online. He does not send many messages or gets cheesy by messaging. … I was reassured when we met because it was normal, and he's, you know, a face-to-face person.”

When questioned whether she was afraid of her ex-partner revealing private intimate material to others, her reply revealed her trusting attitude towards Boris and her favourable evaluation of him as a ‘good person’ despite some doubts and the dissolution of their relationship.

In this regard, I only do it with people I trust. If they break my trust and show it to someone else, I am nothing to be ashamed of. It is the person... It is my philosophy about that, so I was not afraid. Of course, you think about it, but I thought about it maybe once or twice, and I said, okay, I cannot do anything about it, and he is a good person.

Anna further reflected on the three possible different outcomes of their sexting especially sharing sexual visuals, which mirror her trust in her partner. At the same time, her narrative also mirrors her trust in her “significant others” (Mead, 1934), who would understand if he indulged in sharing her intimate photos with the people around her. It is thought-provoking that she is aware of the outcomes and is still convinced about his integrity in this matter.

... There are three options. He [Boris] keeps everything for him, and that is okay. That is a great thing. Something is shown to his circle of friends, and then I will never know, and I cannot do anything about it. Then he wants to humiliate me and show me to the world - that is the third option. And then I think, and I hope that the world - or at least my world of friends, is smarter and they understand that he puts himself in a bad position if that..., I really think he would never do it.

I analyse Anna’s narrative as centred on sexual intimacy with limited mention of emotional closeness in maintaining LATT while she lived in Denmark and Boris in Italy. Despite foregrounding sexual intimacy and online sexual activity, the relationship ended due to Boris’ return to his ex-girlfriend after seven years when he met her again on the sad occasion of her father's demise. She elaborated that the breakup was due to his return to the previous girlfriend, not the geographical distance between them. Next, I turn to David and Theo as a couple foregrounding sexual intimacy.

“We decided to have an open relationship.” Theo

“Having difficult conversations about the relationship kept us together.” David

Theo and David, a cohabiting couple, narrated their experiences respectively through 1.5 years, as a LATT couple, after meeting in the USA. I position them as a couple attaching high significance to sexual intimacy based on their open relationship sexually, specifying their own rules to counteract jealousy.

When questioned about creating intimacy as a LATT couple, David explicitly reflected upon their open relationship, entailing sexual intimacy with other persons but no emotional attachment or a dating second time. Here it is relevant to recollect that sexual exclusivity is an essential characteristic of commitment entailing sexual fidelity—the condition of engaging in sex only with one's partner in a sexual relationship (Carter et al., 2016).

David and Theo’s open relationship does not resonate with this aforementioned hegemonic understanding of commitment entailing sexual exclusivity. David’s narrative reflects their reciprocal agreement as consensual non-monogamous (CNM) relationship and awareness of being different from other participants in my study.

Let me think. One big difference that would separate us from your other interviewees is that we decided to have an open relationship. So, we could have sex with other people if we were not dating them, which meant not seeing them more than once. So that made a big difference. That was something we were happy with, and it worked out fine. Neither of us found out that we were secretly dating someone else. So that was good.

When further questioned about the rules related to their open relationship, David expanded their version of dos and do-nots and monitored the process during their adapting to the cycles of departure, absence, and return (Stafford, 2005). He emphasised that such rules comprising “difficult conversations” strengthened their LATT relationship, enhancing trust and avoiding cheating. The physical intimacy boundary discussion for David and Theo has been vital for managing potential jealousy by McRae and Cobb (2020). I placed them among a small minority (approx. 8%) who described their relationship boundaries as consensual non-monogamous (CNM), i.e., open, swinging, polyamorous, or other. Further cross-cultural research reveals that while 75% of cultures do not approve of extramarital sex, it is still common (Nelson & Jankowiak, 2021). David explained:

…we were in an open relationship; we had to define what was not okay and what was okay in terms of having sex with other people. We had to define that, which a lot of couples never did, which means they end up breaking up. One person did something that the other person considers cheating, and maybe the first person doesn't consider it cheating or doesn't want to break off because of it. Anyway, because we had these difficult conversations, it helped us have a stronger relationship.

Their arrangement shows how LATT couples can negotiate and reshape the norm of an intimate relationship today, where open sexuality need not challenge or break down the loyalty between LATT partners. However, it is more crucial to maintain emotional exclusivity, which involves not dating or establishing emotional relations with another person. From the beginning, David and Theo agreed to have sexual relation with others but maintain emotional exclusivity. They cannot date another man more than once nor share details about sexual encounters with others. Not telling is a strategy for protecting themselves and avoiding jealousy. Theo and David are in a same-sex relationship, and a classic study (Blasband & Peplau, 1985) shows that gay male relationships typically go through predictable stages in which a change to openness inevitably follows an initial ‘honeymoon period’ of sexual exclusivity. Open sexual relationships give them autonomy when they are apart and the opportunity to seek bodily intimacy with someone else. In that way, it creates a balance for both sustaining relationships and individuality. The open relationship involves much navigation between boundaries, feelings, communication, and what it means to be in a long-distance and open relationship. However, it applied only during their LATT period and not when began to live together. Theo elaborated:

In my head, being in a long-distance relationship has a lot to do with trust. I trust that we will handle each other with care and trust. I thought a lot about it in the beginning– if we were to break up, how to do that, in my head, it had to be much slower, over a much longer time so that you could actually feel I am disappearing…. So, the need to show that something wrong is going on. I think we both have the confidence that we will be able not just to say, oh, we are ending this, just like that.

At the same time, David credits Theo for maintaining continuity in initiating and carrying on these difficult conversations and dialogues, cementing their relationship and making it a long-term one.

Having difficult conversations about the relationship kept us together. Because if we had not had them, who knows what would have happened, but he [Theo] was better at initiating them. For example, on the last day of our being together, he would say, “Okay, let's have an important conversation,” where we were checking what we were going to do and what our relationship meant, and very pragmatic in that way.

Theo also responded in-depth to questions about the pragmatic features of their relationship when asked about intimacy during the period they were a LATT couple living in the USA and Denmark. Simultaneously, he discussed the emotional aspects—managing the emotion of jealousy and building trust, essential features of commitment (Carter et al., 2016; Stafford, 2005).

From the beginning, I knew this was going to be long-distance, 6000 km. apart six-hour time difference…; also, I think an important part of that decision was having an open relationship. Because I don't think we would have survived or that I would have been interested in going into the relationship if that wasn't decided. And for me, it was mostly taking out the jealousy part.

Juxtaposing Theo’s views with David’s adds nuances to this book’s relatively rare phenomenon of open relationships and the broader society. Theo also invoked the basis for these rules in another LAT relationship with an ex-partner in another city. Thus, learning from earlier experiences is an important part of his life course. Furthermore, he discusses negative emotions, such as despair, disappointment, and sadness. Theo further reflects: “But obviously, we had lots of discussions about what it meant to be in an open relationship, being long-distance, and what kind of obligations, you had. Because we obviously occasionally disappointed each other.” He also raises various questions, which he tries to answer later in his narrative. “How do you talk about that? How do you address feelings of sadness and sorrow?

Theo defines himself as non-jealous, but David is presented as an emotional and jealous type, emphasising the salience of rules concerning sexual experience with other persons. Both managing jealousy and sustaining trust are clearly vital in long-distance relations, with 6000 km between them. Theo underlines the rule about not telling or asking about single-time sexual experiences and the trust aspect, expressed by sharing specific experiences.

For me, it is more important to set some ground rules, where he was not going to be angry with me for not answering the phone immediately or that I went out with friends out and partied when he wasn’t here. I mean, things like that could potentially create misunderstandings… don’t ask, don’t tell. …When we were physically apart, we would never even share stories, but we could share some crazy stories when we were together.

Along with focusing on sexuality and emotions such as jealousy, and trust, Theo adds a surprising point about materiality in sustaining intimacy. Sending creative, material objects to the partner is vital because for him, fun is one of the three significant features of a positive intimate relationship, in line with the “continuity units”, a device for continuity of social relationship in periods of non-co-presence Sigman (1991). His narrative confirms that not only sexual and emotional affective features but material, tangible objects can also contribute to LATT relationships. “… also sending material things. Like sending things with snail -mail that I didn’t tell him was coming. He would suddenly say, “See what I got today,” and he would have something I had sent him, which was also tangible.”

Although David mentioned sending just a sexy photo, analysed as “partnered-arousal activities”, it is paradoxical that David and Theo foregrounded sexuality through CNM. However, online sexual activity, including sexting, was not a vital part of their relationship when they were a LATT couple, despite being in the developmental category of middle adulthood (Ballester-Arnal et al. 2021). David expresses awareness of the cybersurveillance and monitoring of cyberspace in the USA (Turkle, 2011) but does not express a critical concern.

Probably there was something, but that was not a major part of our online relationship. No having sex on camera… There was probably some time when you took a sexy photo of yourself and sent it for excitement. I had no worries about being monitored in cyberspace. So, I am sure there are some photos of me in the US government. Anything that goes in and out of the US is monitored.

Juxtaposing Theo’s reply to the question “Were you sexting?” further confirms the limited visual exchange between them and no other forms of “partnered-arousal OSAs” (Ballaster-Arnal et al. 2021). Their online sexual activity is limited to just photos, with no synchronous video exchange.

We would share pictures, I guess, or maybe send sex, text messages, or emails, but never do anything via video like Chatroulette.Footnote 5 Because I never found it interesting…. We could meet for a meal at the same time. But not sexually.

In summary, the three couples whose narrative is interpreted to foreground sexuality, Vivi and Ari, Anna and Boris, and David and Theo, engage in online sexual activity of varying degrees, while the last couple, Ken and Nina, didn’t use OSA at all.

“Very sensual. That is where we connect best there.” Ken and Nina

The last LATT couple I interpret as foregrounding sexual behaviour is Ken from Denmark, and his wife Nina, 45, from the USA, with eight years of LATT relationship and married in 2013. When questioned about sexual intimacy, Ken’s reply about their strong sexual, sensual relationship, and t interconnections formed the basis for placing them in this category. Unfortunately, Nina could not be interviewed, so I have just Ken’s words: “The relationship is very sexual…. It is a very erotic relationship. Very sensual. That is where we connect best there.”

He added Nina's other positive qualities, such as being fun-loving but also referred to current emotional demands in the relationship due to Nina's temporary depressive condition and mutual trust.

She is a sexual, fun person to be around. It is very complex. The depression took a lot of space last year, but she is good at picking herself up…. She has come out of it and is playing the violin - musical therapy. We are very close in a sense; we believe in one another. In these eight years, we never really had any jealousy. She goes out a lot, and I do too. We trust each other.

When questioned about sexting and other online sexual activity during separation, he answered that they visited each other an average of four times a year, mostly in Copenhagen or New York. Ken’s reply is interpreted as placing sexting in the background. He explained that Nina wants to be sure that their sexual exchange is just between them, avoiding the risk of being seen by others. The written exchange has been mainly emotion-oriented, and he was unfamiliar with the term sexting. However, in the first phase of their relationship, they did engage in online sexual activity—sending an erotic picture considered a ‘partnered-arousal activity’ (Ballester-Arnal et al., 2021).

I don't know the term [sexting]. We did a bit in the beginning through Skype and texting. She is a private person. She doesn't want anyone else to see. The texts are like – I miss you; I wish you were here. Not explicit.

Ken highlighted that their online exchange was emotional, not sexually oriented. However, when questioned about the misuse of the information, the reply indicated his apprehension about misuse along with his not being directly affected. “I do not feel like that. I do not want to believe. The fact is that it can happen at one point. … I don't know. Doesn't apply. We have the emotional stuff through text, not sexual.”

However, in response to a question concerning difficult situations, Ken reflected on the risk of surveillance and misusing information for commercial purposes, such as invasion of privacy, fraud, and violation of digital property rights by influential corporations such as Apple and Google. He pinpointed his strategy of using a cover marker on his camera to minimise the risk. These reflections resonate with the conceptualisations by Turkle (2011) and Grimshaw (2017) about the dark sides of digital technology. These dark sights of technology are conspicuous by their absence in the Ballester-Arnal et al. (2021) study.

I put a marker over all my things. Use a marker over the camera. I don't want to use the cameras anymore because of surveillance. Apple and Google follow people, messages are picked up. Keywords are used to write algorithms and make a profile of you, such as one's political views and cars, which they can use to manipulate you through advertisements and political messaging in the news.

In summary, the narratives of the couples foregrounding physical intimacy show variation in the real-life and online exchange. For Vivi, Ari, and Anna, Boris, sexual togetherness was crucial, and they also engaged in online sexual activity, e.g., Anna and her partner once a week. At the same time, they reflected on the risks involved and made decisions accordingly. Vivi used limited visual online sexual activities and began writing more than before, while Anna considered the risk of her boyfriend sharing her sexualised visuals with others but highlighted her trust in him.

Although the LATT relationship endured only for a year or so for both couples, the reason for the breakup was not distance. Vivi missed emotional support, while Anna’s partner suddenly went back to an ex-girlfriend. According to my interpretation, for David and Theo, agreement about an open relationship was necessary; they were the only couple in my study in a consensual non-monogamous (CNM) relationship during the LATT. The motive for an open relationship is explained as avoidance of jealousy and enhancing trust. Surprisingly, sending ‘fun’ material objects to the partner, centring materiality, was also a strategy to maintain LATT. While for Ken and Nina, I interpret physical intimacy as one of the salient connectors through eight years. Nevertheless, there was very limited online sexual activity during periods of separation, mainly in the first phase of their LATT relationship. Despite their differences, these LATT couples attached importance to the embodied aspects of their relationship.

One aspect that hardly emerged in analysing the couples who experienced a breakup is ‘third person’ involvement Just a few participants, such as Boris breaking up the LATT relationship with Anna as returned to his ex-girlfriend, Alice’s ex-partner Benin, described in Chap. 6, developed an intimate relationship with a ‘third person’, reflecting the popular Hindi/ Indian film song ‘Mera balam etni door ki tum sang naina lad gaye!’ (My sweetheart is so far away that I am attracted to you), the female is saying to the nearby beloved when the original beloved is far away. To some extent, the fidelity among the LATT couples in my study highlights the strong commitment (Carter et al., 2016) among most LATT couples, in contrast to the popular stereotypes about the fragility and breakups of such relationships. However, my intention is not to paint just a rosy, too-harmony-oriented picture, as there are contradictions, diverse views, and conflicts among LATT couples, but a nuanced picture in line with Debrabander (2017). In the next section, I analyse the narratives of other participants in the empirical study, for some of whom there is enormous variation between the partners in the significance of physical intimacy.

8.4 Couples with Significant Physical Intimacy Variations Between the Partners

This section sheds light on the LATT couples, which I interpret as showing vast variations between the partners regarding sexual intimacy. Sara’s narrative about her LATT relationship with Gert focused on the differential importance they attached to sexual intimacy. Nita highlights telephone sex experiences while Sid does not, while Lena’s narrative about her partner Pedro avoiding online sexual activity and sexting due to his religious beliefs illustrates the two partners’ differential understandings. Lastly, there is an outlier narrative: the eldest participants Mia and Juan’s retrospective experience of living apart transnationally in Paris/ Copenhagen and Mexico, respectively, in the 1980s, when writing ‘love letters’ was described as a way of coping with missing physical intimacy.

“Therefore, I always needed just a little time to reconnect again… We have different expectations.” Sara and Gert

When questioned about physical intimacy during the periods when Sara and Gert are apart, Sara’s reply directs attention towards the differential expectations and practices related to sexual practices between the two partners. Sara’s narrative also foregrounds the temporal aspect related to adapting to the cycles of departure, separation, and return (Stafford, 2005) she goes through regularly. She needs time to “reconnect” herself with Gert, not immediately engaging in physical intimacy. This feeling of unfamiliarity, the partner is experienced as a ‘ stranger,’ is barely referred to in the other empirical studies. This under-researched dynamic of a couple relationship can be considered a major knowledge gap concerning intimacy and distance. I interpret this process as a vital feature of getting together again, a part of the return process. Likewise, Lena's ambivalence and the time needed to get used to being together with Pedro “The first couple of days, for me, are difficult when we are together because I like my privacy. I need some time”.

Sana's perception of Gert as a stranger when reuniting with him after a long time and wanting time to get used to being with him resonated with Lena’s experience. This gendered adaptation to the cycles of departure, absence, and return (Stafford, 2005) contrasts with Pedro’s getting used to reuniting immediately. “He does not feel the same way. Everything is normal for him from when he sees me at the airport.” The following narrative by Sana exemplifies the dynamics explicitly:

Because we also have different expectations. When I was here in Copenhagen and Gert was in Amsterdam, we often saw each other but still a little bit of time apart. When we saw each other, the first thing he wanted to do was have sex. For me, even though there was just a small time between seeing each other…if it is one month, two months, or just two weeks... he's always a little bit like a stranger. Therefore, I always need just a little bit of time to reconnect again.

Furthermore, Sara includes her experience of staying together for a more extended period in an African country, Tanzania, where Gert had a job in the renewable energy sector, and she joined him after six months. She was without a regular job during the first month. Later, she began yoga classes for the large ‘expat’ community in Tanzania, as she had done yoga teacher training in North India earlier. Her narrative explicitly underlines her temporal need for the process of emotional and sexual reconnection. Additionally, Gert had a vast network of friends from Holland and Belgium, and Sara was expected to join the network with many social activities.

Every time when there is a lot of time passing, he feels a little bit like a stranger, I know he isn't, but I just need to get that connection again. And we didn't really have time for that because he did not want me to be bored. He just wanted me to join him and have fun with his friends. …So, in the beginning, I just wanted to have this reconnection, but it was difficult because we had very different expectations.

Sara narrates how their dialogical communication about differential expectations eventually led to a harmonious relationship. She explicitly concludes that talking persistently about these matters is significant for a harmonious sexual relationship. These views align with Merolla (2012)’s theory about sexual relationships emphasising interpersonal dyadic exchange after the separation. The theory includes both the interactional style (intrapersonal, dyadic, or network) and the time of its enactment (i.e., before, during, or after periods of separation). A focus on the dyadic relation can minimise jealousy and enhance trust during periods of separation. Dialogical communication regarding differential expectations, especially about sexual practices, is again taken up in Chap. 10 on “good practices.”

My priority was us. So that was difficult, but we talked about it at some point, and I told him the situation, and I’m here because of you and not because of everything else. …. But at some point, we talked about it again, and from that moment, it has been pretty good. Then we kind of knew how to live together.

However, online sexual activity, including sexting, did not have a significant place for Sara and Gert except in the first phase of their relationship trajectory. The possible explanation is the feeling of alienation and strangeness implied by the term ‘weird’ in her reply to the question about sexting. “Yes, I think we did it [sexting] a couple of times in the beginning, but we haven't done that. I think I would feel a little bit weird starting that. …But it is not really something I think about.”

“It is a kind of courtship period.” Neeta

“I understand physical needs are always there, but she is here every one-and-a-half month.” Sid

Neeta and Sid, both from India, working for a United Nations agency, had been in a LATT couple for almost four years at the time of the separate interviews. Sid did not place physical intimacy highly, when questioned about the creation of intimacy during the periods of separation, and instead highlighted the bond of friendship between them. However, Neeta underlined telephone sex as a strategy to maintain sexual intimacy during periods of separation. This response illustrates the complexities, contrasts, ambivalences, silences, and omissions in narrating about the intersection between intimacy and distances separately as LATT couple partners.

According to Neeta, their temporal togetherness in the past 14 years, the first decade as a living together couple in New Delhi, led to the creation of a solid bond, both emotional and material, between them. Moreover, their daughters were four and eight years old when they became a LATT couple due to Neeta’s job-related relocation to Copenhagen, while Sid remained in New Delhi with the daughters. Shared parenting involves a high level of ongoing digital contact between them. There were frequent visits as they visited after six to seven weeks and were together for a week or ten days facilitated by work-related activities, covered in Chap. 7. Their narratives reflect the creation of the ‘shared third’ by both partners (Benjamin, 2004, 2018). Sid elaborated:

We have been together for 14 years, so we do not need to create intimacy. It is friendship first; even now, friendship comes before the relationship between husband and wife. …We have so much to share, both personally and professionally. A lot of everyday things as well.

However, when questioned specifically about online sexual activity and sexting, Neeta’s reply was candid and surprising as she mentioned synchronous telephonic sexual exchange, an OSA which is placed as “partnered-arousal activity” (Ballester-Arnal et al., 2021) and is not frequent among middle-aged adult developmental category in which I place Neeta, 43, and Sid, 50. In addition, Neeta pinpoints the positive feature of sexual intimacy when they are together after almost two months of separation by using the metaphor ‘courtship,’ implying romance and passion for a couple which is usually associated with youth, Sternberg (Chap. 2). “We talk about sex, phone sex. But I also see him [Sid] every two months. The positive result [LATT relationship] is quality time. Kind of a courtship period. That is the best period in everyone’s life. That courtship continues.”

On the other hand, for Sid, the geographical separation is marked by missing Neeta and coping with the emotions of suffering and sadness, also mentioned strengthening, among other ways, through sentimental Indian songs, a pattern also discussed by Bhatia (2018) in a study of Indian youth identities, through decolonising psychology which sheds light on the local cultural aspects. Sid expressed:

Yes, when she is not here, I think about her and what she has been doing, the amount of pain she is going through, and what she is not disclosing. Right now, also I am not able to speak. My eyes are filled with tears. “Teri yaad sataye” (your memory pains). When I am on my way to work or driving home, I listen to songs; the lyrics of such songs make me think of her. Our feelings are expressed in songs. In India, we have songs for every occasion. These songs are important for our generation because we grew up with these songs. These songs give us emotional strength and confidence in life.

When questioned about sexual intimacy during periods of separation, Sid’s reply revealed ignorance about sexting and scepticism about digital means for maintaining sexual intimacy, as they can be hacked and misused. He underplayed the missing physical intimacy by emphasising their face-to-face visits approximately every second week.

No. I am hearing it [sexting] for the first time. Normal pictures also can be morphed. Anybody can hack. I don’t know how people are doing it. I understand physical needs are always there, but she is here every one-and-a-half month. It is the young generation. I think in the cases the photos are misused, it could be one of the partners who may have betrayed them.

The intimate relationship between Neeta and Sid can be considered complex as, on the one hand, the emotional communicative bond, friendship, sadness, and feelings expressed through songs are mentioned; on the other hand, the online sexual activities—telephone sex and the affects of joy and excitement through a ‘courtship’ metaphor are highlighted by Neeta, contrary to the gender-related patterns about higher online sexual activity among males as compared to females (Ballast-Arnal et al., 2021). Neeta’s narrative resonates with the telephone sex suggestion for relieving stress and bringing partners closer, thus keeping the sexual intimacy burning despite the distance, in a pragmatic guidance for maintaining long distance relationship, which perceives sex as helpful in building mutual trust and  love (Wendy, 2022).

“I would never send pictures.” Lena and Pedro

When questioned about the inclusion of physical intimacy in the online exchange, Lena vehemently denied written and visual inclusion of sexuality-related aspects. She related it to her partner Pedro's religious background as a person affiliated with the Catholic faith. Her narrative may be interpreted as a more restrictive attitude towards sexual matters.

During the further discussion, Lena clarified that Pedro avoids writing down things related to sexuality, which has to do with his way of thinking. His thinking on this matter resonates with (Hewitt & Shulman, 2011) description of culture's influence on sexual practices rather than distrust of the media. Somehow, this explanation seems paradoxical when I reflect on the findings of Ballester-Arnal et al. (2021) indicating a high level of online sexual activity among a diverse age range of people with Catholic backgrounds in Spain, though the participants’ religious affiliations are not explicitly mentioned. At the same time, an intimate relationship between Catholic Pedro and Protestant Lena indicates that patterns that once seemed entrenched have changed—absolute seeming norms have been redefined and replaced.

No, we don’t do that. I think it has to do with my boyfriend. He is a Catholic. He sees things in a different way. He was brought up in a different way. He would never do things like that. … I understand that people are concerned about that. But I would not think about it because I would never do it. I would never send pictures.

She does not mention missing bodily contact. She hardly mentions a longing for sexual intimacy when apart, implying that for some, familiarity, closeness, and warmth can be far more fulfilling than physical, genital sex (Graugaard, in Darko, 2019, p. 14). The next outlier narrative is about physical intimacy for LATT couples in another era, the 1980s, when digital technology was not ubiquitous.

“They were love letters. It was the only way.” Mia and Juan

The experiences of the eldest couple in my study are included here as they belong to an era with radically different communication means and no digital technologies to maintain intimate relations across distance. These experiences contrast with the current LATT couples, who have been using digital technologies for online sexual activity. Mia from Denmark and Juan from Mexico have been married for almost three decades and were a LATT couple in the early 1980s, first when Juan remained in Paris, and Mia was in Copenhagen, and later Juan moved back to Mexico City, while she was in Paris. She underlines that there was no digital technology available, and the cost of telephoning was very high compared to earnings, “No internet. No emails. The telephone one minute of phone cost… 20 Kroners. It was so expensive, so expensive.”

Their communication, including the creation of physical intimacy, could only be through letters sent by post, which were tardy and took weeks to reach. Juan's letters took a long time to reach Mia as the postal system in Mexico had severe limitations. Due to a long gap in communication, Mia almost ended the relationship, however, a timely telegram from Juan confirming their positive relationship and his waiting for her motivated her, finally, to migrate to Mexico. One can see the contrasts in the communication patterns when we consider letters and telegrams in the past and the Internet-based platforms emails, skype, and WhatsApp. It is thought-provoking to analyse the first-person narratives of these different modes of maintaining sexual intimacy through the participants. “It was very difficult. You know the Mexican postal system is not too good… The letters take a long time. Of course, being so far apart was difficult due to a lack of communication.”

However, she describes that they managed to create intimacy, as it was possible to share thoughts, sexual experiences, and memories through letters, acceptance of separateness leading to the creation of a “shared third.” (Benjamin, 2004). She still cherishes the letters received decades back and values them positively as aesthetically appealing.

Yes [created intimacy] through letters; they were love letters. It was the only way. The telephone was too expensive.…. We wrote letters at that time. When my boyfriend sent letters, it took me 3-4 days to decipher them; his handwriting was difficult to read. It took a lot of time. They were beautiful letters… I have kept them still.

Through her comment on receiving the number of love letters to be followed by a face-to-face meeting, she underlined the significance of adapting to departure, separation, and return (Stafford, 2005), especially being physically together after a period of separation. Quoting a British author, she mentions the importance of face-to-face meeting after ten letters, which is interpreted as 3–4 months in that temporal context. It is remarkable that an array of participants in my study in this book also echo this pattern of meeting/visiting each other in diverse ways.

I think …but you should not be away from each other for too long. I do not know which is like the limit… Do you know this British author, Alexander Portraits… four books by four different persons. In one of the books, one character says “it is impossible to write more than ten love letters without seeing the other person.” It is fascinating.

Her reply about the hardships faced in love at a distance, combined with the metaphor for meeting after ten letters, foregrounds the physical intimacy in the couple's relationship. Physical touch, especially a kiss, is underlined as a vital side of the relationship entailing the face-to-face meeting (Experimentarium, 2021). Mia expresses the difficulty of distance and love. “[Physical] Closeness… not being together in the morning. Not having physical closeness, a kiss is more important than sex. A kiss is important!”

Mia highlights physical intimacy, yet she is nostalgic about the substitutes offered through love letters, and she is realistic about the digital technology she used in 2015. She was in a LATT situation for almost four months in 2015 as she spent time with her young granddaughter in Copenhagen. She appreciates digital synchronous media Skype but is also critical of digital contact limitations, as the quality of face-to-face contact and touch is missing.

I was away for three and half months… in Denmark with my granddaughter two years back. Four months after 30 years of marriage does not feel like a long time. Then I used Skype. I think the two people who invented Skype should have the Nobel peace prize. It has meant so much... Skype is the first one, my favourite, but it is not the same thing. It comes close.

However, when directly questioned about sexting, Mia expressed her critical views about the lack of trust in social media (Turkle, 2011) and (Grimshaw, 2017), reflecting her mistrust of the negative side of digital technology, “I would never send such photos through the net, as I do not trust big data. You never know where the photos can go. One thing is to talk. Sending texts is another thing.”

8.5 Concluding Comments

In conclusion, I delineate the five patterns that emerge from the analysis of the participants’ narratives about sexual intimacy, especially during periods of geographical separation.

First, despite foregrounding sexuality for some couples expressed through formulations such as “two sexual beings” and “bodily togetherness,” the relationships are affected by other factors such as emotional relationality, trust, and commitment continuity. Missing emotional support from Ari for Vivi caused a sudden breakup of the relationship, and withdrawal of commitment from Boris towards Anna led to relationship dissolution, despite the ‘chemistry.’

Secondly, body contact is vital for couples like Ken and Nina, yet they prefer not to engage in online sexual activities, also termed as cybersex, due to privacy issues, mistrust of global social media, and its potential misuse.

Thirdly, and almost overlooked in the existing research, is experiencing the partner as a ‘stranger’ after a period of geographical separation and a need to reconnect emotionally before becoming sexually intimate again. Thus, focus on adaptation to the cycles of departure, absence, and return (Stafford, 2005) and further exploration of the ‘stranger’ feeling is advocated for couples and continued research in this field. This under-explored and relatively ignored feeling has implications for the LATT couple's mental health and well-being if the partners are not reflexive about such feelings and expect an ‘instant sexual reconnection.’ Periods of separation can make partners disconnected at diverse levels. An illustration is Sara’s poignant articulation of her feelings related to the perception of Gert as a ‘stranger’ and wanting time to reconnect emotionally, while Gert's desire to have sex immediately after reuniting leads to frustration and conflicts. The problem was solved by talking together. Dialogical communication concerning such sensitive dynamics is one of the lessons learned to deal with the potential emotional ambivalence, and conflicts involved in reuniting LATT couples.

The fourth pattern is about the rather unconventional sexual relationship maintenance demonstrated by David and Theo as well as Neeta and Sid in radically different ways. Consensual non-monogamous (CNM) (McRae & Cobb, 2020) involving 'open sexual relations with other persons, 'don't ask, don't tell’ along with continued emotional exclusivity is David and Theo's way of avoiding jealousy as well as fulfilling a need for sex during the periods of separation. Nevertheless, consensual non-monogamous (CNM), a technique of relationship boundary management, is seen in only a small group of the population, approximately 8% in the Canadian context (McRae & Cobb, 2020). Neeta’s positive metaphor of a ‘courtship ' for the LATT couple’s periods of reuniting/returning implies that despite the hardship of separation, romance, passion, and “fun” in being physical together, can be created, combined with Neeta's reference to the telephone sex. These experiences resonate with the findings that long-distance couples engage more frequently in sexual activity together and online sexual activity (Goldsmith & Byers, 2020) and with Holmes (2014) findings about distance relators enjoying the way the distance can have sex better or bringing a festive air to reuniting.

Finally, the fifth pattern is about engaging in online sexual activity, specifically sexting associated with 'partnered-arousal activities' among the participant in my study, which shows various forms which barely resonate with the major findings of (Ballester-Arnal et al., 2021), demonstrating high level of online sexual activites throughout the life course, more prevalent among males than females, covered in the first part of this chapter. Several participants used digital technology for sexual relationship maintenance. Vivi, Anna, and to the same extent, David and Theo engaged in online sexual only in the first phase of their relationship (Goldsmith & Byers, 2020), while others did not engage much or at all in online sexual activity, reflecting on the negative aspects of digital technology (Ellis & Tucker, 2015; Turkle, 2011). Couples have reflected and negotiated the limits of various alternatives. Moreover, some participants expressed a deep mistrust of social media and barely considered social media as an option for maintaining physical intimacy during periods of separation.

The lessons learned from this chapter are that LATT couples can maintain their sexual relationship in diverse forms. These forms are, cherishing the memories of sexual togetherness when they were apart, reflected in online sexual activities, telephone sex, or the unconventional mode of accepting “CNM /open sexual relationships” to counter jealousy. However, acceptance of separateness, differences, emotional trust, and support remain central in sustaining the LATT relationship, reflecting the co-creation implied in the “shared third” (Benjamin, 2004, 2018). While another lesson is that most participants are primarily aware of the perils of some forms of online sexual activity, implying that digital technology itself is a vehicle of power, e.g., having access to technology, deciding which technologies to use, and choosing to respond or not to the partner depending on the synchronicity between the intimate partners and the emotions, and moods of the persons. Nevertheless, most manage to assess the strengths and weaknesses of digital technology, subsequently use, reject, and find alternatives depending on the intersection of several factors.

These conclusions entail that while I explore how people meet their need for physical intimacy, I find that intimacy goes beyond physical gratification and digital technology and includes trust, commitment, shared knowledge, and beyond. The narratives demonstrate that many seemingly irreconcilable things coexist, usually quite easily, in people’s lives. The next chapter centres around the theme of spirituality and religiosity, which has been conspicuous by its absence in empirical studies around intimacy and distance but is a significant feature in my study. Moving beyond the idea of technology as “rational” and spirituality as “irrational,” a straw man argument, a stereotype that many scholars across disciplines have dispelled, I turn to the theme of spirituality.