Finding Treasure Without a Map is a Great Thing

Maps. They've fascinated me for years. They're interesting things, right? I mean, think about the power a map can hold: it shows you where one place ends and another begins; it shows you places of danger to avoid; it gives you routes to anywhere you want to go. And depending on who is making the map, one place can look bigger than it really is; borders can be moved; wars, effectively, can be erased or highlighted. (Think about how much the map of Europe changed after WWI.)


In The Hunting of the Snark by Lewis Carroll, we find out that

     "[The Bellman] had bought a large map representing the sea,
     Without the least vestige of land:
     And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
     A map they could all understand.

     'What's the good of Mercator's North Poles and Equators,
     Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?'
     So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply
     'They are merely conventional signs!

     'Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
     But we've got our brave Captain to thank:
     (So the crew would protest) 'that he's bought us the best--
     A perfect and absolute blank!'"


It might seem crazy to praise someone for giving you a blank map, but that is precisely what the world gave me. The trouble is that, when I was in my early 20's, I was blind to its blankness. In fact, that isn't totally accurate either. (Metaphors are so tough!!) I was so confident of where I was going and how I needed to get there that I didn't even use the map. But much like an enchanted map in Harry Potter or the like, it was indelibly recording where I had been even if I wasn't looking at it, zig-zags, curlicues, dead ends, retraced steps, and all. There were brief periods of time when I remembered that I had a map. I would take it out and curse it for not having a plainly marked path to my destination. How could I possibly forge a path to an invisible destination when I don't even know where I currently am on the map?

There was a video game my brothers and I used to play when we were kids, I forget the name now, in which the character would have to explore huge castles and underground mazes. Eventually, the character would find a map, but the map in this game was odd in that it would only show you where you've already been. It was useful for back-tracking and for trying doors that haven't been tried yet, but you were never really sure if you were headed in the right direction; it was always hit or miss, trial and error. But, by the time I found the door I needed to get to, to insert my golden key and escape the maze, I knew that dungeon inside and out. I knew exactly where every single corridor led, which enemy was lurking in every next room, where every power-up was located. And this is literally how I feel about my life as I look back on it. It sucked finding my way around in the literal dark, but it sure made finding the exit that much sweeter.

And so it is with Andrew.

It's interesting to look back on the twisty-winding path I took to get to him. I almost laugh sardonically when I think about how frustrated and furious I was so many times when I'd reach some impasse or other on the Road to Romance. I mourn too for the Justin who, so many times, wanted to give up because it was so glaringly obvious that the world hated him and would try its damnedest to hurl every obstacle it could in his way. But I never did give up. Not really. My heart never stopped hoping. Add to that the fact that he was on his own twisty-winding adventure that led him to just as many crazy places as mine led me, and you'd have to agree that it is nothing short of miraculous that we found each other at all!

Here I am now. I've found my treasure, and I'm a better person because of the extended time it took me to find it.



We are ten months into our relationship, and we still giggle when one of us says something sweet. We still get butterflies when we get to see each other. We still hold hands every single time we are in the car. We still hold each other all night long. We still wake up in the morning, look each other in the eyes and whisper, "Good morning, boyfriend." This greeting is always followed by a huge grin and a tighter squeeze. We go and eat breakfast burritos every single Saturday at the farmer's market. We go to breakfast every single Sunday. And we take none of it for granted. Even going to the grocery store is an adventure for us.

He will be graduating from medical school in May, and we just found out this past Friday that we will be staying in Phoenix because he got his residency placement (aka match) here. I had told him that I would go with him wherever he was placed, but I am beyond thrilled and relieved that we get to stay here.

His parents met my mom and step-dad at the luncheon after the Match Day ceremony (where all the students find out which residency program they would be going to). It was an nerve-wracking and beautiful moment for me to see my mom shaking hands with his mom and his dad. (I am getting oddly emotional now, thinking about it.) "We sure do love Justin," Andrew's dad said. And my mom responded with enthusiasm, "Well we just love Andrew, too!" This is big on a pretty major level in that Andrew's parents are devoutly religious people, and his father is the lead pastor at their church and has been for many years. Having a gay son, I'm sure, has rocked their world. I don't know where they're at on their own journeys of acceptance, but hearing those words almost made me cry with joy.

So, I've purchased engagement rings. I got them because I never want to exist without Andrew. We've talked many times about our future, and marriage has always been a part of that discussion. I've joked with him about having the rings, but I just need to figure out a good place and time and manner to ask him. Now that we're staying here, we can actually plan a wedding and not have to put it off for three years until he's done with his residency. On Sunday, we spent about two hours driving around, looking at houses for sale. We're talking to friends and family who are realtors, mortgage officers, and much more experienced than we are in these sorts of things. Things are, in a nutshell, moving forward at an increased pace, and I could not be happier about that.

I will leave you with a few lines from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland:

     'Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'
     'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.
     'I don't much care where —' said Alice.
     'Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat

I guess what I'm saying is, embrace the blankness. Embrace the uncertainty. Embrace the frustration. Lean into the struggles and push. Never stop pushing. And as long as you end up where you wanted to be, it shouldn't matter which route you took to get there, especially when every road and wrong turn teaches you a lesson and makes you a better person once you reach the journey's end.

And what is a journey's end but the start of yet another journey . . .