Good byes

I have never really been that great with good byes. Everyone says that but its so true. I don't really believe in good byes. I wish good byes didn't even have to exist. I am not really sad, I don't cry, I don't think it makes sense in my body or mind that this is a good bye. Or even how to react to a good bye. I moved away from my family and friends and said good bye and I think I cried the first time but after that it wasn't "sad" to me. In my mind they are always "see you later" because eventually I assume I will see you again. And leaving France was no different. Between the house sitting that I was doing the week before I left, packing up and moving my stuff to different friends apartments to be stored and cleaning out my apartment I somehow squeezed in a good bye party. It was so strange. It felt like just another "picnic" at the Champs de Mars. But deep down I knew this picnic was not like the others.

I have had a great last two years. Don't let anything I've written on here convince you otherwise. I think the crappy situations and hard times are what make for good writing and this has been a constant source for letting me be frustrated without causing drama, but my experience in France has been to be remember. Not because it was the last two years of my life, but because it was the most amazing two years of my life. These last two years top any 5 minutes of the previous 22 years of my life. Yes, I did just say that. And I'm not kidding. And so, to have to actually come to reality that this picnic was the last time I might see some of the most amazing people who have helped make the last two years the most amazing times of my life was ridiculously hard. It was awkward. I didn't know what to say or how to act or what to do. I really really hated the good byes.

So here is my amazing good bye party... one last hoorah in the city of light. with the Madame tour Eiffel.

And then to make the night even more sad, ha, Jordan and I went up to my empty apartment for the last time to give it a proper good bye. This good bye was sadly one of the hardest ones, haha. It was where I had spent so many hours and where I had created a home after not having a job for nearly four months. It was where I cooked many meals and had parties and sleep overs.

And then I took one last look out my window at the Eiffel Tower. It was the last time I would see the Eiffel Tower as a resident of the most amazing city in the world.
(now cry a river why don't ya.... its sad stuff here)

As I sit and write this from my huge bedroom inside my parents ridiculously huge house (in my opinion, compared to what I have been accustomed to for the past two years) I miss that place like crazy. I have been home for nearly two months now and its not the same. Life won't be the same again. Mostly because I am a changed person. A lot because the world has changed around me as well. Paris will forever hold the dearest of places in my heart and no matter where the next chapter in my life takes me, Paris will not loose its place. I know it was time that I move on and change the pace a bit and while I am eager and excited for what is to come, I am happy to look back at all the memories I now carry with me.

Thank you to ALL who made my life in France what it was. You are and will always be very dear to me! Je vous aime!

post france

There has been a lot that happened from where I last left off until now. Even just until my first week in the USA which was awesome. But tonight I want to get something off my chest.

It's called culture shock. Or in my case, reverse culture shock.

I am not sure if that is even the correct terminology to use.

When you decide to up and leave everything you've known, for a year, for two years, for a lifetime, and change everything. Change the country or state, change friends, change status, change cultures, change everything. It isn't an easy story. However I have depicted my last two years and counting to you, I have no idea, because I have been living it. It has been equal parts good and bad. I have been challenged more than I thought imaginable but had some of the highest of highs. France was good to me, all in all. When I look back on the last two years, I choose to remember the fun times I had with the kids, the cool places I got to visit and live, making some incredible friends, experiencing some firsts I will never forget, as opposed to the bad days or rough situations I encountered along the way. The point of that is to say, it isn't easy moving countries. Regardless of whether I chose to do or was forced to, it isn't easy.

But no one has asked me how I am doing.

That feels so selfish to admit but sometimes I just wish someone would ask me, "so, how are you handling all of this?", "are you ok?"... because you know, some days I am not.

No pity party here. Not at all. I have made the decisions I know I needed to make in the moment I needed to make them. But that doesn't make it easy. I gave up all my friendships, a job, and a life I had created for myself in France and I have chosen to move back into my parents house where I have no car, no job and very few friends. Yes, its the city where I grew up in and I'm near all my family which I am thankful for but it doesn't make it easier. And sometimes I really feel I haven't been allowed the opportunity to adjust. Like I was forced immediately into this new life. No bad days accepted.

It's been hard I've realized when I've allowed myself to realize what all has happened. I get lonely. I get overwhelmed. I get frustrated. And I don't have any answers to any of your questions.

I know I'll be able to create a life for myself here, where ever 'here' ends up being. But until then, this is what I'm dealing with. All the changes.

Like I said, no pity party whatsoever. But just know, as hard as it is to move away. Its equally as hard to move back.

my last two weeks as a nanny in Paris

I wish I had taken the time to write down all my thoughts and what all happened because the following two weeks are now the biggest blur of events and emotions and I am struggling to put it all into words. I had 2 weeks to pack up my belongings and say good bye to everyone all while keeping up with the pace of life I had chosen to have: babysitting on top of my nanny job, house/dog sitting, and trying to find a place to store my things that I could not take back with me. How I managed to make it out of those two weeks alive and kicking, I'll never know. But looking back, the last two years, if nothing more, have taught me how tough of a person I really am. That I don't need people to help me. Of course its great to know I do have so many wonderful people in my life that I can depend on, but its also a very liberating feeling to know that I can do much myself. 

And so it began. My final two weeks in Paris. 

I kind of knew this was coming a while before. When everyone would ask me what my plans were for the summer I'd tell them I had plane tickets back to the US for about 2 months. They'd say, "well, you're coming back aren't ya?" And I really never felt like I could honestly say, "YES". I always answered with, "well, I have a return ticket but I guess we won't know until I board that flight" and that was truly how I felt. I had really been struggling deep down about returning to France but the inner battle was this: I LOVE France, this is where my friends are, the friends that have become my family. Paris is the most incredible city in the world, how could I ever leave this place? vs. I really feel like its right to move back. There is so much more opportunity for me back in the US, i have an amazing support system, I have the opportunity to get a real job. BUT how could I ever leave this amazing place? BUT how in the world am I going to stay here? ....this was what I thought about all the time. 

The last few weeks I was in Paris were crazy. There was a family in my building that the family I worked for has introduced me to who needed some help with their children for a week while they were in Paris on vacation and I ended up working over 40 hours for them (on top of my nanny job). The week prior I had been incredibly ill (I think I wrote a blog post about my exciting visit to the french doctor) and my last week in Paris was spent house/dog sitting for some friends who were on vacation in the US so I was between apartments. All while working. 

And when I decided to leave Paris for good I knew I had such a small window of opportunity to tell all my close friends. That was the hardest. But everyone was so supportive. 

I really wanted to have a little goodbye party but before I could announce something like that via facebook or by word of mouth I really felt I needed to let all my close friends know that I wasn't come back, in person. That was the hardest thing to do. Not because I couldn't tell them but because everyone was so busy. And I was so busy. But eventually I got to speak to everyone I knew needed to hear it from me and it was on to party planning. Not surprisingly, most of my friends weren't surprised at the news. They were sad but not surprised. Thats the thing with living in Paris and having such international friends... you never know when anyone might leave. And for me, it came with two weeks notice.