The year 2013 was a bad year, to say the least. I had nothing to show for it except a failed marriage, the sale of my first home, and the emotional baggage that could rival that of Britney Spears, circa 2007. And all before the age of 30. I had hit a very low point in my life and the few friends and family that did know about my situation only knew what was on the surface; I couldn’t explain to them why I had actually seemed to make such a mess of my life. For reasons that go very deep, it had dawned on me that I was merely sleepwalking through my life, not actually living it. The things I said and did were to appease others, I had grown passive, and my life had become someone else’s; someone I no longer recognized. At that point, I needed something drastic, something completely out of character…something life-affirming. And I wasn’t going to find it living where I was. I needed to escape for a while, if only to think. So, a month before my 30th birthday, I booked a 12 day trip to Europe…by myself. And I learned more than I had ever expected.
Amsterdam, Brussels, and Paris were my destinations. Just me, myself, and one big open mind to keep me company. My first stop was in Amsterdam, and the next three days that I spent there were eye-opening, to say the least. Wandering the streets of the unknown was quite exhilarating and I wanted to take as much of the city with me as I could. Same with Brussels. Once I arrived in Brussels and dropped my luggage at the hostel, I was off and running. There were sights to see, things to be tasted, people to encounter, and history to learn. And as I immersed myself in each city, I began to feel a sense of awareness, empowerment. Any anxiety I had felt before I left began to evaporate and for the first time in months, I was beginning to see myself again.
It wasn’t until I arrived in Paris that that concept really hit home. It was my second day in the city and as I was wandering down side streets in the 1st Arrondissement, looking for this hidden gem of a restaurant, everything suddenly came into focus. Here I was, in a foreign country alone, my mediocre French just barely getting me by…and I was not afraid. I was not afraid of where I was, what I was doing, or where I would end up. It was as if I truly discovered who I really was in that moment. And I cried. Cried for letting myself get lost in the rat race of life. Cried for not having had the strength to realize it sooner. Cried for finally having the guts to admit that I hadn’t failed; I had learned. Through all of the heartache, the sorrow, the stress, and the overwhelming emotion, I was stronger than I gave myself credit for. The life I had known up until this point had crumbled. But now I knew that I could rebuild it on my own. It was time that I stepped up and became master of my own destiny.
We find our bravery and inspiration in times of despair. While my entire trip taught me life lessons, it was in Paris that I came full circle. A calm had descended upon me as my self- realization took hold. I was brave to walk away from a marriage I had convinced myself I wanted. I was brave to jump head-first into a Euro-trip alone, much to the discontent of those closest to me. And I was brave enough, and inspired enough, to look inside myself and find that woman I had given up on; the strong, independent woman who was perfectly capable of hitting the reset button and forging a new life for herself, on her own terms.
I am Paris and Paris is me. It will forever be my touchstone, my comfort and my future travels there will always hold a certain excitement and a sense of belonging. Prior to my excursion, I had left pieces of my heart fractured and broken. Paris made it whole again. And I became my own hero once more.
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