Things I didnt realise

I didnt realise how good my life was until I got here and realised it was gone.

That’s not to say that I didnt realise my life was good – I knew it was great.

Thats not to say either that I didnt appreciate what I had – I was so grateful for what I had.

But I seriously lacked the depth of understanding.

I did, really, take a lot of things for granted. Like the cheap cost of living, variety of restaurants, perfectly fabulous group of friends where each one is an absolute star that I would happily spend hours with. I didnt realise that the friends I have in Sydney are the result of year and years of culling and careful selection, a gradual build-up of fantastic people. I thought I could make friends in Paris quickly and easily, and while I’ve met lots of new people, there are not many I would be willing to keep as friends. Or is a friend an acquaintance that has shared years of trials and tribulations with you, and has become a friend through proof of commitment? I didnt realise that making friends was actually a very complex process.

I thought I would find out who my ‘real’ friends were by those who stayed in contact with me. Actually, staying in contact superficially is  quite easy and doesnt necessarily mean that someone is a good friend. Some of the people I’ve realised are good friends dont always contact me. But they are are the one’s who are first to support me when things are a bit tough, the one’s who encourage me to keep going and remind me why I’m doing this in the first place.

That said, what I also didnt realise, was how comfortable I would be here in Paris.

I knew I would like it, that I would enjoy it. I thought I would like living here.

But it’s turned out to be more than that.

I find that I have a lot in common, in general with Paris and Parisiens. I have discovered that I havent really had to change my personality to be “socially correct” all that much at all and that most of the ways I’ve changed have been in ways that I’ve enjoyed changing.

I am loving politeness. I’m loving the bitching about paying too much in taxes and yet getting so excited about government paid leisure activities (Paris Plage for example: 3 “beaches” created next to the Seine by way of truckloads of sand, temporary restaurants, palm trees, book hire, hammocks and deck chairs etc etc – who needs to leave the city for holidays?!!). I’m loving that people dont eat and walk at the same time. I love that at a dinner party everyone will agree that the wine doesnt go with the meal, and the host will put the cork back in and select another. Takeaway coffees dont exist.

I didnt realise that I would be so comfortable with the French acceptance of both the pains and joys in life. Life is lived passionately, joyfully. Even anger, sadness and depression is, I wont say “welcomed”, but “accepted” as a facet of human existence. Emotion is a normal part of living, and there is no shame in showing it publicly.

I didnt realise how much of an English “stiff upper lip” I have, and how cold and repressed I can be.

What I did realise, was that living in France would give me a whole new perspective on life. And I’m still so grateful to have the opportunity to broaden and deepen my experience of life.  I hope it makes me a better person. I think it’s started a little already