Goodbye USA
“One day, I will go to Paris and I will fall in love.”
That message has hung on the wall of my bedroom since I was a little girl: a small cream board with lilting letters and a sketch of the Eiffel Tower - it was given to me by my grandma. To most people, the sign probably suggests a great romance; going on dates along the Seine as I’m whisked off my feet by a French man. But not for me. Even as a young child, I never envisioned a romantic love. No, I imagined that I would fall in love with Paris.
For years, I’ve dreamed of one day waving goodbye to my home of 23 years and setting off on a great adventure. I studied French through all of middle and high school, and even briefly considered majoring in it in college. I idolized French fashion, marveled (with healthy skepticism) at French cuisine, and soaked in pictures of the cobblestone paths, rocky beaches and the grey skies of France. In 2019, I earned a scholarship and spent a brief three weeks covering the Women’s World Cup that took place throughout France. I got a taste of the life I had been craving, and my appetite intensified.
When my senior year of college was destroyed by COVID, my pragmatic plan of graduating from college and starting a 9 to 5 suddenly felt impossible. I was burned out from virtual classes, tired of the same city landmarks I had passed for my entire life, and desperate for some sense of inspiration. My dad regularly suggested looking into becoming an au pair (basically, an international nanny for French children) but for months, it seemed unrealistic. But as my graduation came and went, I became more and more intrigued.
I signed up for AuPairWorld, a free online service that largely resembles a dating site. I wrote a quick description of myself, my background in childcare, and uploaded a few pictures. For a couple of weeks, I combed through the website until I found the perfect family. As soon as I saw their profile, I felt an instant connection and I knew they were the ones. It was a long process, one that I intend to write about more in future blog posts, but eventually I had a contract with the family, my visa in hand, and my flight booked. January 1st, 2022, I would be flying from Raleigh to Paris.
My dream was becoming my reality.
People constantly asked me if I was ready, if I was anxious, if I was excited. It’s a weird feeling, the idea that your dreams can pull you so far away from the home that you know, the places so familiar, and the people that you love. As my departure date approached, I faced an ominous number of last lunches, last adventures, and last goodbyes.
Well, today’s the day. My goodbyes have been issued, my hugs hugged and my (many) tears cried. I’m sitting alone in the airport, waiting in limbo between reality and a dream, and I think I’ve finally come up with an answer.
I’m excited to go, but I’m terrified to leave.
I’ll deeply miss the love that I have in Raleigh, but my love affair with Paris is waiting.