My partner and I have been dating for 8 years and don't live together. Living separately works for our relationship.

• My long-term partner and I don't live together.
• I've come to terms with the fact it doesn't mean anything about the seriousness of our commitment.

My boyfriend and I have been together for over eight years, yet we don't live together.

It wasn't intentional at first. We went through the motions of apartment hunting. For the first several years after getting serious, we talked about neighborhoods and types of buildings that made sense for us — he has a son, and I have a dog. But the conversations about proximity to green space, how many blocks to the subway and his son's school, and where the nearest grocery store needed to be all felt laced with doubt. It was like planning a trip I knew I'd never take and maybe didn't want to.

In many ways, this lifestyle makes perfect sense for me. I haven't always followed the traditional paths and have progressive beliefs. Marriage was never a 'must-have' for me; I never wanted my own children. Independence within a relationship has always been a priority for me.

I thought I'd live with a partner eventually

Yet, this way of having a relationship still came as a surprise. I imagined I would live with a partner eventually. It was the one traditional step I figured I would someday take. I pictured it being a moment of joy to finally combine our books and decide on a couch we'd both end up on at the end of the day. In fact, in previous relationships, this was a step I not only felt OK with but thought I wanted.

With each lease renewal or apartment move, the topic came up. Should I renew for one or two years? Will we decide we're ready then? For a long time, it didn't feel dishonest to push it down the road, to pretend that I would want that someday.

There were financial and logistical reasons for us to delay, but when we hit the six-, seven-, and eight-year mark, it became clear that this was no longer a setup designed by circumstance but one we both preferred. We both enjoy our own space and the ability to have our own things without much compromise.

Living in New York City also doesn't make cohabitation easy for people who aren't starting from scratch without kids, pasts, or baggage. My boyfriend had a long-term apartment with manageable, steady rent that fit him and his son perfectly but wouldn't work with an additional person on a full-time basis. More than that, we were both conscious of disrupting his son's life with a big transition, and I wasn't sure I was ready to fit my own life and belongings around theirs, even though we loved spending time together as a unit.

It took time to stop wondering whether this was the right decision

As I firmly entered my (upper) middle-30s, I remained alone among my coupled-up friends who had never cohabitated. While I've never been one for FOMO or peer pressure, it has occasionally made me wonder if something might be wrong with my relationship. Or perhaps, more acutely, with my own ability to commit and take it seriously.

Society has evolved, and it's more commonplace to have relationship arrangements that deviate from the classic milestones. But, there are still steps that show the outside world that a dynamic is serious and that commitments have been made. Moving in together is one of the clearest of those. It means something when you do, so what does it mean when you don't? It took a long time to see that I was conflating those steps with progress.

Our relationship has always felt different

I'd had boyfriends hold back that intimacy like it was a secret to be kept. Not living together felt like it said something about my place in their lives.

But my current boyfriend was different. Very early on, he made sure I had space in his home. I had my own dresser and section of the closet. I had an entire shelf in the bathroom and a hook for my towel. It was clear that even though my mail went to a different address, whatever home we were spending time in would become ours. It was only when I was readily given what I'd craved that I realized I might not need more than that. Preferences can flourish when options are on the table.

With this confidence, and knowing my relationship is stronger than it's ever been, I just got a new apartment, for just me and my dog, down the street from my boyfriend and his son in Brooklyn. We have dinners together almost every night and do things as a family unit. I've known his son for over half his life, and we have our own unique and strong relationship, despite the non-conventionality.

I can't say this won't change, but I can say I've stopped waiting for it to. We might decide moving in makes sense for us someday, but now I know it won't mean anything when and if we do. Or, if we don't.