I AM Going to Paris
That's it. Foot down. Flight booked.
I am going to Paris.
I feel like I had an existential France crisis.
If you have been following me anywhere, including on here. I have first mentioned before I left to come to France- to Provence specifically -that I would not be going to Paris. Nope. I would probably more certainly not be going. And I was ok with that.
Well, I was wrong.
I was not ok with it. I was not completely ok with it then and I was not completely ok with it when my flight landed in France and I am not completely ok with it now.
All around me suddenly, from that first day as I thought it would, the travel frenzy began. Everyone within the study abroad program from all over the states and all over the world were planning trips the first week. Nice, Lyon, Barcelona, Paris. I wanted to go to all of them, and yet one of the places stood out more the rest.
Paris.
"Paris is always a good idea," said some Audrey Hepburn character. I had to agree.
The rest of the people I asked and begged and pleaded to go with me instead of party trips to Barcelona did not. Over the past three weeks of my stay here, I have been planning and deleting and planning and never booking as I pleaded for someone to go with me. They didn't even have to lift a finger. All they had to do was pay half of the Air Bnb and we would be golden to spend a beautiful weekend in the city of light.
Still, no.
Over the past few weeks many things have happened as this sort of sad instigation of mine began.
Thing #1
"Would you want to go to Paris with me, pretty please?"
"Oh, uh, I really don't want to go to Paris."
Thing #2
"Hi, I am looking for someone to go Paris with me. Would you want to?" I say trying not to sound too desperate though probably sounding quite desperate.
"Actually I don't think I am going to go. I have been there already..."
"Oh, ok. All good."*
*Future reference. When I say something is "all good," it usually is not all good.
Thing #3
"Would you like to go to Paris?"
"No, I am going to other places. I don't want to go to Paris. I'm sure you'll find someone to go."
That next weekend: They go to Paris...without me.
I didn't understand what I was doing wrong. I still don't.
It has been a struggle. A struggle that has for some reason taken a emotional and physical toll on me as I stay up late at night checking for a new opening I may not have seen yesterday on Air Bnb and going back and forth in my mind about what I should do when I find one and also when I don't
To Paris? Or not to Paris? To enjoy where I am in the South of France? To enjoy more of France?
Well, I am here to tell you that after quite a bit of turmoil and crying on my part and a whole lot more weighing the pros and cons...it is over. I had a moment today where I got the confirmation I needed today from my professor.
Just go, she said. You'll make more money. If you are going to regret it. Go.
I cried some more and decided that I was not going to France. It wasn't meant to be right now. I told my mother I was frustrated and angry and confused with the world and I also told her I wasn't going. I was not going to Paris. It was it was.
Then I had my walk home. Walking over the past few weeks, I have found, has been something of a forte of mine. I am good at walking, mainly because I do it and intentionally get lost all the time. On this walk however, I was just walking home. There was nothing special about this walk. In the sun I kept my head down, sunglasses on not to look at anyone in my still shame about not being strong enough to be sure that I would have a good time on my own traveling. But halfway up the long driveway to my home stay, I paused.
I prepared myself for another deeply routed existential, why do I have no travel friends crisis. Instead I heard something a little different ring though my head. A question that may have been even more dangerous.
What was I doing with my life?
And I decided within those few seconds one thing for sure.
I AM GOING TO PARIS.
I am.
With who? No one. Just me. I am going solo.
I can officially classify myself among the solo travelers even though I am not going to lie, I don't quite even know what that means and going solo does indeed scares me a little. But here we are. I am making this deceleration so I cannot turn back even after booking my flight and hostel. I am going. I am going to Paris.
Sometimes after all, I must learn sooner or later, I must do things for me. Even if they are only for me.
Wish me luck in the city of love and light.
I am going to Paris.
I feel like I had an existential France crisis.
If you have been following me anywhere, including on here. I have first mentioned before I left to come to France- to Provence specifically -that I would not be going to Paris. Nope. I would probably more certainly not be going. And I was ok with that.
Well, I was wrong.
I was not ok with it. I was not completely ok with it then and I was not completely ok with it when my flight landed in France and I am not completely ok with it now.
All around me suddenly, from that first day as I thought it would, the travel frenzy began. Everyone within the study abroad program from all over the states and all over the world were planning trips the first week. Nice, Lyon, Barcelona, Paris. I wanted to go to all of them, and yet one of the places stood out more the rest.
Paris.
"Paris is always a good idea," said some Audrey Hepburn character. I had to agree.
The rest of the people I asked and begged and pleaded to go with me instead of party trips to Barcelona did not. Over the past three weeks of my stay here, I have been planning and deleting and planning and never booking as I pleaded for someone to go with me. They didn't even have to lift a finger. All they had to do was pay half of the Air Bnb and we would be golden to spend a beautiful weekend in the city of light.
Still, no.
Thing #1
"Would you want to go to Paris with me, pretty please?"
"Oh, uh, I really don't want to go to Paris."
Thing #2
"Hi, I am looking for someone to go Paris with me. Would you want to?" I say trying not to sound too desperate though probably sounding quite desperate.
"Actually I don't think I am going to go. I have been there already..."
"Oh, ok. All good."*
*Future reference. When I say something is "all good," it usually is not all good.
Thing #3
"Would you like to go to Paris?"
"No, I am going to other places. I don't want to go to Paris. I'm sure you'll find someone to go."
That next weekend: They go to Paris...without me.
I didn't understand what I was doing wrong. I still don't.
It has been a struggle. A struggle that has for some reason taken a emotional and physical toll on me as I stay up late at night checking for a new opening I may not have seen yesterday on Air Bnb and going back and forth in my mind about what I should do when I find one and also when I don't
To Paris? Or not to Paris? To enjoy where I am in the South of France? To enjoy more of France?
Well, I am here to tell you that after quite a bit of turmoil and crying on my part and a whole lot more weighing the pros and cons...it is over. I had a moment today where I got the confirmation I needed today from my professor.
Just go, she said. You'll make more money. If you are going to regret it. Go.
I cried some more and decided that I was not going to France. It wasn't meant to be right now. I told my mother I was frustrated and angry and confused with the world and I also told her I wasn't going. I was not going to Paris. It was it was.
Then I had my walk home. Walking over the past few weeks, I have found, has been something of a forte of mine. I am good at walking, mainly because I do it and intentionally get lost all the time. On this walk however, I was just walking home. There was nothing special about this walk. In the sun I kept my head down, sunglasses on not to look at anyone in my still shame about not being strong enough to be sure that I would have a good time on my own traveling. But halfway up the long driveway to my home stay, I paused.
I prepared myself for another deeply routed existential, why do I have no travel friends crisis. Instead I heard something a little different ring though my head. A question that may have been even more dangerous.
What was I doing with my life?
And I decided within those few seconds one thing for sure.
I AM GOING TO PARIS.
I am.
With who? No one. Just me. I am going solo.
I can officially classify myself among the solo travelers even though I am not going to lie, I don't quite even know what that means and going solo does indeed scares me a little. But here we are. I am making this deceleration so I cannot turn back even after booking my flight and hostel. I am going. I am going to Paris.
Sometimes after all, I must learn sooner or later, I must do things for me. Even if they are only for me.
Wish me luck in the city of love and light.
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