I followed my childhood dreams, now what?

On Dec 1, 2021 my husband and I took a 10 hour flight from Miami, Florida to Paris, France on a one-way ticket with a long-stay visa in hand.

My dream, my young dreams to move to France had finally come true. I did it. And the first 6 months were absolutely glorious. We started learning french quickly, we ate all the things, drank all the wine, spent Christmas with two beauitful french families. Then spent new years with friends in a covid quarantine. Found our dream apartment in Paris, began to make friends, got lost, learned my favorite and least favorite metro stations, and got really good at dodging sidewalk dog poop.

My husband’s creativity sparked and he stepped into his freedom. Which only spread my heart even further open, reassuring me over and over how fulfilling it is to put yourself first sometimes.

And now I am coming up on the end of this visa and am wondering where all the time went. I haven’t done enough. I haven’t had good onion soup. I haven’t been to a futbol game. I haven’t had enough wine. I haven’t seen the lavender fields, or vineyards, or taken a bread-making course, or made friends with a cheese monger.

How is it I spent 16 years thinking, dreaming and finally actually planning my grand move across the Atlantic all to wonder why I didn’t embrace it more?

This article is two things. I’m happy and i’m disappointed. I did so much and not enough and I feel like each arm is being pulled away from my center. I’m happy and greatful. I was able to work remotely and have an income. I’m nervous and anxious I wasted my days and nights working when I should have been living. Really living, living more.

Our visa ends September 30, 2022. That’s 40 days from today, August 20. I’m still not the artist. Not the writer, nor the influencer, nor working as a freelance producer of my own company. I’m a part time American immigrant working for the marketing man.

What a jumble of thoughts these words are. But I’m still glad I’m getting them out. Because, I realize now, what the what is. Now, it’s time to work. And not work in the 9 to 5 sense, but work on the inside, out. I’m free now, it’s safe to embrace myself within the world around me and then stretch my limbs. It’s time to wake up every morning and know I am the artist, the writer, I don’t care to be an influencer, and definitely love producing. Now is the time to work on me, just being me.

It’s clear now this was more of a journal entry than an article about living in France 🙂 But what’s the point of any of this if we aren’t expressing ourselves? Even if it is in jumbles of words.

XO