Blog #14 – Embracing My Unique Joie de Vivre
Something has changed. I’m in Paris for the autumn and suddenly, I feel very different here. I am finally feeling I am at home. I’m sure you’re wondering, but didn’t I always feel at home in Paris? Yes and no.
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Outside, I would make sure I went to the grocery store in the early morning before I had to figure out how to navigate my cart down the narrow streets of my neighborhood. I would only smile at the neighbor downstairs when we crossed paths.
Inside, I felt nervous all the time. Afraid I’d do something that could bring public humiliation. So, I stayed quiet, didn’t ask for corrections to my rarely attempted French, and tried very hard to blend in – to the point of being invisible.
Returning to Paris from my very “interesting” river cruise via the train from Basel, CH, I realize I feel a confidence that I never had before.
My first week back, I have been welcomed back by shop keepers, kissed by my hairdressers, and smiled at by the woman who runs the pressing shop or drycleaners, which was no small feat. I’m still struggling with French conversation but I’m no longer afraid to ask how to pronounce something or what is the order of words? Is it aussi moi or moi aussi? A lot of the time, I feel I know where I am going without pulling out my map.
But mostly, I am not afraid. I do not feel the nervous tension in my body that I didn’t even realize was happening to me when I was in Paris until it was gone. I now feel confident that this Paris part of my life will work. It wasn’t an impulsive, moment of insanity.
Once I stopped feeling nervous and insecure, I’m noticing things that I never saw before.
I see how different French people move in the space around them. It is a contradiction of taking up less space and yet greater comfort with closeness between people.
I see the details of outfits rather than the whole and I wonder if having no closets makes people more creative with the clothing they have?
I see all the mouse traps and pest deterrents at the Les Drogueries where I shop. I haven’t had to purchase anything for my Paris apartment, but I know all about our little friends back in Boston.
I see the peeling wall where the gardens outside my bedroom windows are draining and yet the courtyard is gorgeous because of the plants.
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And I love it all. Maybe we only truly fall in love when we can see the lesser points of someone or something, the ugly bits so to speak, the imperfections, the wartsv … and yet we still love the whole.
My question for all of you is did this change happen because I had enough time in my apartment, in this new city, to begin to feel at home? Is that true wherever we land? Does it take us a certain amount of time to feel like we belong anywhere?
I’ve noticed that whenever you moved somewhere new, at first, it’s hard, it’s scary, and puts you off-kilter until one day, you wake up feeling different.
Maybe this happens whenever we try anything new. Are there always feelings of discomfort when you first try to change our habits? When I first decided to embrace swimming as my exercise in Boston, I was okay once I got into the pool but the journey to there and back was a tense walk. A few weeks later, I didn’t care that I was walking through my building with no makeup, in my cover up with squeaky flip flops and my dripping hair wrapped up in a scrunchie. But this Paris thing has taken much longer.
So yes, my getting into the swimming pool at my building in Boston was much easier than living six months/year in Paris and trying to learn another language at my age.
The length of time it will take us to get comfortable with our big stretches, I think is directly dependent on how big we are stretching ourselves.
What do you think? If you agree, then this could be a good test of whether and how much we are truly stretching ourselves. And if you’re feeling uncomfortable still, it must be because you are pushing yourself into something really big. So, instead of being hard on yourself, celebrate that decision you made to create your next BIG vision and know that eventually you’ll get there!
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Maybe what happened for me is that I accepted that I’m an American in Paris. Maybe I’ve accepted that I’ll never be Parisian. I won’t learn how to beautifully tie scarves; I won’t learn how to effortlessly look elegant. I’ve accepted that I cannot be something I am not and by staying quiet, staying hidden, trying to camouflage myself in my surroundings isn’t showing up as my true self.
Maybe we all have to learn to accept our truth, our real selves. And in that context, I’ve accepted that I truly don’t fit in anywhere and yet we all seek to fit in somewhere.
Yet I feel different from others in Boston. I felt different in Minneapolis the city of my birth. I’ve stayed quiet in London, so no one knows that I’m American even though they do.
But it is in Paris, that I’ve grown the confidence to not fit in and love my quirkiness and differentness. Ironically, by doing so, I actually am starting to become more like a Parisian!
Where do you feel most comfortable? Have you learned to feel confident in your own skin? How did you do that? I’d love to hear.
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