So last weekend I was in Paris…
And I really, really, really didn’t like it.
I can hear you gasp all the way from here, please stop, let me explain myself…
Like every girl who dreams about owning a pair of Louboutins and feels like “Anja Rubik wanna-be” when wearing red lipstick, going to Paris was one of my dreams. Even my host-mom, who casually wears Dior, told me that I would fit right in there because I had “the Parisienne spark in my eyes.” Well, I guess not.
It was 6 AM when I got off the bus, the weather was nice but it was kind of chilly because it was too early in the day. My friend, who met me at the station, and I took the metro to downtown and got off somewhere near Notre Dame. We went to the Louvre, “Golden Triangle”, D’Orsay, Chanel’s house, Champ Elysees, Eiffel and other places that I can’t even remember how to spell their names. At first, it was incredible, I was in Paris; grabbing pain de chocolate with coffee to go, eating macaroons from Pierre Hermes and taking selfies with Mona Lisa were just casual stuff, until I realized I was not comfortable in the city. It took me a few hours to realize that I just did not feel like myself; because it was either I had to become a Parisienne like others or I was just not welcome there. That amazing city, the place where Hemingway wrote his finest pieces and Renoir established his best works, was so dominating that I could not even act like myself.
In the end, I decided it was the idea of being in Paris that I loved; not actually Paris itself. Considering France is the most visited country in the world, at first I thought there was something wrong with me because I just really didn’t like it. People I talked to looked at me like I was just not sophisticated enough to understand the Parisienne spirit… Well… I’m not even going to try to defend myself because I don’t care; I was just not happy there, so I am not going back and that will be it.
Moral of the story: You don’t have to love something just because everyone else loves it. Just because you got into a big “label” school doesn’t mean you have to go there. Also, your parents might have enjoyed their years in Northwestern, but maybe that place just is not for you.
My grandfather (and my mom) really wanted me to go to University of Oklahoma where he attended school and I just did not want to because, you know, it just wasn’t for me. Was he disappointed? Maybe a little, but I know I’m happy and that’s all it matters.
Don’t let anyone pressure you; you are important and your comfort matters.
PS: Here are a few pics from Paris, enjoy!