Love's Long Journey: A Story of Self-Discovery

I've been where you are.

I know the weight of a thousand questions. I have felt the pull of a thousand decisions. I have walked on a thousand paths that all lead to the same place: uncertainty.

You are not alone.

There is a place for you here, in this world. You just need to find it.

The journey begins with a step, but it ends with thousands more. It ends with thousands of steps and tiny moments that add up to the most important thing you will ever do: your life. But first you have to get on your feet, if only so you can fall down again. You have to learn how not to fall down, because once you're down, there's nowhere left to go but up -- which is far easier than getting down in the first place. The trick is being able to make it back upright again when you do fall down, and falling down isn't something we're ever taught how to handle as children. We certainly didn't grow up learning how not to be lonely. Learning such a thing could fill an entire lifetime and still leave us hungry for more -- hunger is one of our primal instincts after all -- but there are other things we share with our fellow humans, things that make us human, things that give meaning to our lives and shape our destinies: love and friendship and laughter and tears and joy.... There are people out there who care about you very much, people who worry about you even when they don't know where you are or what you're doing or whether you're alive or dead or somewhere in between... People like your parents... Or like me... Do me a favor, though? Try not to die? We're awfully attached.

When I was young, I learned how not to be lonely by reading books. You can too! Books are magic in that sense; they teach us things we wouldn't otherwise know about ourselves and how others see us, sometimes even better than we see ourselves sometimes better than we want others to see us -- perhaps especially so at times. Reading was cathartic for me; it helped me understand myself more deeply than I knew was possible before I started reading books about people like me: gay men who were happy with their sexuality, who lived their lives without question or apology for their identity, who accepted themselves for all that they were because they were given nothing else by society but the understanding that they weren't wrong for being different from the norm. They were normal men leading normal lives except for their attraction toward other men instead of women -- they wore suits and ties instead of dresses and heels! They ate sandwiches instead of salads! They had jobs instead of aspirations! They wore facial hair instead of lipstick! But they were happy, every last one of them. And I wanted what they had because I knew it was mine too if I only had the courage to reach out and grab it with both hands -- if only I could let go of my fears long enough to unclench my fists long enough to uncross my arms long enough to stop guarding myself long enough just to let somebody in long enough to let someone love me long enough to let them take care of me long enough to let someone take care of me... Sooner rather than later, I would be ready for it, because sooner wasn't going anywhere fast -- sooner would stay there waiting for me forever if it meant getting its chance at being meaningful in my life -- so eventually I'd be ready for it no matter how hard I tried to fight it until the moment arrived where I could embrace my true self.

So many books became my friends over time; some are still by my side today as constant reminders of lessons learned, as reminders of journeys traveled, as souvenirs from places visited, as tokens from people met, as mementos from moments shared, as keepsakes from relationships forged, as souvenirs from friendships made, as tokens of all the experiences I've had in my life. All of these things have shaped me into the person I am today.

They say home is where the heart is -- well, mine has been all over the world these past years since leaving home at 18 years old, thinking somehow that moving away from my parents meant moving away from their expectations, meant freedom, meant independence. I've learned that our hearts move with us wherever we go; they follow us along our paths through life whether we want them there or not - we can ignore them or pretend they're not there, but they don't cease existing. Even when society tells us we should hate them because they're different because they aren't normal because people like us shouldn't exist because people like us make others uncomfortable, there are still those who love and accept us for who we are.

One day, when the time is right, you'll find your place in this world, surrounded by the love and support of those who understand and appreciate you just as you are. And until that day comes, keep