The past couple months were really tough; really trying. I have been lonely and homesick and ready to pack it up. My contract was up at the end of June, and my plan was to go back home, into the arms of my friends and family, and my beloved New York. Back to a life that made sense and felt comfortable and was good to me.
And yet.
And yet I couldn’t quite leave. I rather like Paris, after all. I’ve come to really enjoy my work. And if Ogilvy could extend just one more contract, and I could finish this Vuitton project, and maybe meet more people and learn more of the language and travel more and find that joy again that sustained and lifted me for months upon months last year… well then, pourquoi pas?
If only the decision had been that easy. It was excruciating, thanks in no small part to my introverted, belabored ways of overthinking things. But a little over a month ago, I was biking through Place de la Concorde, and this was the light I saw.
Really! I saw the light!
And I knew at that moment that I was staying. If only for another six months.
And even though it has taken me weeks to admit it and say it out loud, I am staying. I will remain in Paris through the end of the year. Best of all, I feel good about my decision. I feel positive and hopeful and confident, which, after months of feeling shaky and unsure, is a huge relief.
And, my god, I am in Paris. I am staying for another six months. It is summer, I have friends, I am fulfilled, and I have so many things to look forward to and everything seems to (finally!) be falling into place.
I am staying in Paris, and I am again a happy girl.
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