Day Twenty Nine: "Bittersweet Ending"

I apologize in advance, but I have a feeling this post is going to be a little long. But here it goes.

Remember the first day? I said my goal was to be sad to leave Paris.

The verdict: ACHIEVED.

I really did not think it was possible. From day one I was counting down the days until I would be home. But today, driving away from the city, my heart sank. This trip has been the BEST experience of my life. Before this, I felt as though my life was boring. Great but a little dull. I found myself to be stuck in a rut. Challenges would come and go, but nothing too life changing. My routine was what I lived by. And I’m realizing now how much I revolved my life around that routine and habits—so much so that I was afraid to immerse myself in anything but that.

My experience abroad forced me out of that comfort zone and routine. My initial reaction was that I hated it. I hated not being able to work out everyday. I hated not being able to eat the food I normally eat. I hated not being able to communicate with the French people or express myself. I hated how small the apartment was. I hated that the bathroom was freezing. I hated that my bed still seemed dirty. I hated taking public transportation. I hated the psychotic pigeons. Okay still hate those.

But after a couple weeks I began to see parts of the city that I loved. I loved that my clothes still fit even though I didn’t go to the gym. I loved being able to pick up a baguette at any time of day. I loved that I could still use mannerisms and hand motions to understand what someone was saying to me. I loved that my apartment was a 10 minutes walk to the Notre Dame and shopping on Rivoli. I loved how cozy my bed was. I loved that the metro could get me anywhere I wanted to go and FAST. I also loved that it was perfectly acceptable to just order a coffee and bread at a restaurant. I loved that nutella was a staple food. I loved that everything in the city was so accessable. I loved that the architecture was perfectly preserved. I loved that I could find any piece of clothing, accessory, or shoe I ever dreamed up in my head. I loved that history was everywhere and art appreciation was encouraged. I loved that creativity was flowing and that people were driven.

Versaille. The Lourve. Arc de Triomphe. Champs D’Elyssee, The Eiffel Tower. Boulangeries, Patisseries, and Brasseries. The Pompadou. Luxembourg Gardens. Fashion Week. Rick Owens.

So many memories from this trip. It was unbelievable.

All he bad moments—my stomach issues, ripping the model’s pants, a mental breakdown at Rick Owens—all of these things have taught me a lot and made me stronger.

It may sound cliché, but I now know I am capable of living on my own. I can navigate a new place on my own. I can survive away from my family and best friends for at least a month.

Still, I am more than excited to be going home to America.

I am so happy to see my mom and dad. I’m excited to catch up on life with Tiff. I’m excited to curl up on the couch with Melly. I’m looking forward to my giant bed. I’m looking forward to going for a run.

I realize its not a bad thing to want to go home. After talking with some of the girls I met here, the reason they aren’t looking forward to going home is because there isn’t all that much they miss.

I guess I have just been really blessed with amazing friends and family. My friends from high school have been there for me through the most and shared some of the most fun times with me. My friends from college have seen me at my worst and have encouraged me through the rough times. My mom is the only person I can tell anything to. My dad supports me constantly and makes me feel worthy. My sister, though younger, gives me some of the best advice but also allows me to be big sister to her—which I love. The friends who I have grown up with since the moment I entered the world…you know who you are…have been the most genuine to me. They have challenged me through their own actions to be a better person.

As you can see—I have MANY reasons to miss home and America.

So as I’m sitting here, preparing to board the plane—I have a bittersweet feeling of leaving something behind that I have loved but returning to ones who have loved me.

Thanks to everyone who has read about my experience and followed my travels here. It means so much to know people take the time to read about it.

Oh yeah, and thanks to my roommates here—for putting up with my weirdness. Coaching me through my first experience at a bar and ordering a drink, dealing with my stomach problems, and just accepting me for who I am!

Time has passed way too fast. But every moment has been worthwhile.

Au revoir Paris.

HELLO USA!