When I first moved to Boston, I didn’t make any sort of effort to find a doctor – the combination of the lack of need combined with the pain of having to navigate the hedge maze that is the American health insurance system is enough to discourage anyone. After COVID-19 hit, I actually continued going to my Illinois doctor – a very bizarre conservative man who would go on rants about marijuana legalization and who once prescribed me 600 refills of my asthma inhaler. Eventually, in late 2021 I finally realized that I needed to go and I found a service my employer had where they would find and book an appointment at an in-network doctor. It was exactly what I needed, so they did it and I went. 

I walked into the office in the last week of January 2022 and very quickly realized that this office was almost entirely focused on care for Chinese immigrants in Boston’s Chinatown. I am personally the only reason I had to add ‘almost’ to the previous sentence. I have never seen anyone else there who was not Chinese, patient or staff. Part of the challenge of this was that the receptionist barely spoke English, so I looked like an absolute moron going the wrong ways and doing the wrong things. It’s entirely possible that I have tarnished the reputation of Caucasians for all of Chinatown with my buffoonery. Eventually, I finally navigated my way to the doctor beleaguered and confused, and she was..

Excellent.  

She asked me questions not based on some checklist but actually trying to understand my health. Took the time to get it right, and was kind throughout. 

The other people in that waiting room staring at me, menacingly 

This actually presents a problem. If the doctor was just bad then I could find another, but now I have to continue being the only white guy who goes to this office. I went back yesterday and I actually did everything correctly. Still, it felt like I was out of place (a pretty rare feeling for a guy like me in Boston.) It’s that feeling that you’re getting looked at when the people around you couldn’t care less about you being there. Still, my doctor did a great job so I will be returning again. Maybe I’ll be the office gossip or something. I would very much like that. 

So, I accidentally was forced to take a risk trying something new. And after initial follies, I learned that I liked it. It’s the cliché of cliché’s. It’s the hero’s journey (I am, of course, the reluctant hero and the journey is to the South Cove Community Health Center.) But for a cliché, we sure do ignore it. For all the movies that have this kind of journey – the ones that value the hero venturing into the unknown –  it’s deeply ironic that many of them are sequels. In Spider-Man: Far From Home the premise is that Peter travels to Europe and has to navigate threats in a place he isn’t familiar with. It is the 23rd movie in the Marvel Extended Universe. Twenty-Third.

I love venturing into the unknown! 

We love the idea of charging into the unknown, but the reality is that we don’t actually like doing it. We run from it and stay with what we’re familiar with. In this case, formulaic superhero movies with the same characters, banter, and tropes. Studies have shown it provides a comfort from the predictability, it gives us order and stability. But what is lost? For me, it’s a lot more than a good doctor.

A certain loved one in my life has suggested moving to the west coast for a year as a way of mixing things up. We’d move in late 2026 and spend a year in Seattle, Vancouver, or California. I’ve found myself surprisingly open to this concept because I’ve already made this kind of jump when I moved to Boston. When I first moved here I knew no one except my roommate, who I only knew via a mutual friend. He was equally desperate for a roommate as myself. After I did make friends here I took pride in that – rightfully. It’s not easy to create networks of friends starting from scratch. 

When I was dating, I’d occasionally mention this fact. It’s a natural point of pride as I explained my story moving from Chicago to Boston. More than once the conversation died the moment I said it. When someone hears that the other person knew ‘no one’ on moving, it’s possible fears of a loner with no friends skitter across their minds. I was always okay with this. If that’s a disqualifier for someone, that’s sort of that person telling on themselves. 

Most people do not live that far from where they grew up, and if the premise of that scares them then there’s probably a misalignment between us. The thing is – there is a real pain with trying new things, and when it’s a big thing like going somewhere unfamiliar there can be months of it. We’re not foolish for hesitating. But there’s a big difference between hesitating and living out Matt Damon’s character flaws in Good Will Hunting. For me, on the other end of that ostracization is a great city, great friends, a lifestyle, a career, a girlfriend, a quality doctor, and more. 

So, I’m relieved I’ve found someone who is also seeking this kind of change in life. If you can build a willingness to venture out solo into the world, knowing that it will feel vulnerable and that there will be a  painful period of difficult transition, you will live a more fruitful and enriched life. Sure, let’s move to Seattle. Or California, or New Zealand. Why not? We’ll probably come back but hey, even better if we choose not to. I do hope those hinge girls find their person. I’m glad it’s not me.

Colin