Paris? Yeah, Paris.

I’m supposed to be moving to Paris at the end of August/beginning of September. Supposed to be. It’s a shame that I haven’t heard anything from my program yet about my enrollment nor have I heard anything yet about my visa application status. But such is life. In fact, this whole situation reminds me of the the second time that I was preparing to go to France and how stressful going through all of this process was.

It brings back some nostalgia for me.

I first started this blog as I prepared for that amazing time in my life. I had been dealing with both the nervousness and the excitement of preparing to move my life to a different culture and country. I wasn’t completely sure of what to expect. I scoured blogs similar to mine to gain the most amount of knowledge possible before I went. I was beyond ecstatic.

I started writing this blog to document my experiences and to share my passions for writing, traveling, and getting to know this beautiful world of ours.

Now, preparing again for another important time of my life, I’m preparing to move to Paris in the fall, despite the fact that I’m still left in the dark about the details, I’m slowly starting to get excited about moving back.

This year has been extremely difficult for me. It has been challenging mentally, emotionally, sometimes physically, and even spiritually, and I must admit that the idea of completely picking my life up again to move across the ocean again, just when I feel like I’m finally starting to find my place here in Milwaukee is daunting. I’m scared of starting over again. I’m also overwhelmed by always starting over again. The worst part is that I did this to myself. I chose to move to France and then back, and I chose to come to graduate school in Milwaukee. I’m choosing to move back to France. I chose this. So, why do I feel this way? I’ve been asking myself this question for this entire past year. I think I got lost in the fear somewhere and the discomfort of always starting over. I let my fear of the unknown and my fear of failure take hold of me, and now that it’s approaching, I’ve had to re-evaluate my original reasons for making the choices that I’ve made.

I’m always moving. I’m always leaving. I’m always in transition and unsettled because I have passions, dreams, and ambitions, and I’m finding them again. I’m finally starting to feel passionate again. Paris is finally starting to sound like a good idea.

I can’t help but to feel nervous though.

Perhaps it’s how I feel about myself and my personal life right now. I still feel like I’m searching for myself and what I want in life. In some ways, I still feel like a hot mess stumbling about in life wondering if I’m even ready to move my life across the ocean, yet again.

It’s terrifying.

But something I am remembering about the last time I flew across pond is that I was just as nervous and terrified. I was scared that I wasn’t going to survive or do well enough at teaching. There were definitely times that I failed, and I failed big time. When I think about the failures that occurred, I laugh in looking back. I totally made a fool of myself at times, but, hey, I made it. And I succeeded. I can do this, right?

That’s the thing about life. Do we ever really know if we can do something? Do we ever really know if we are doing anything right? Aren’t we all kind of just bumbling around trying to figure out this crazy life, right? No? Maybe? Yeah? Yeah. Don’t deny it.

I think the idea of moving back to France is also so daunting because I am still not in tip top shape about where I am in my life.

In my last post, I talked a little bit about how I struggle with anxiety and depression. It’s been quite awhile actually that I’ve been dealing with these things, and it’s still really difficult for me to admit that I’m struggling with these things and to talk about them. However, though some days are better than others, I am still learning how to get through this difficult time in my life.

Preparing for Paris is almost forcing me to save my own life, even if I’m terrified of it. I’m terrified of failure. I’m terrified of missing home, missing my friends, and missing my family. I’m terrified of losing touch with myself again and ruining whatever I have started here, but preparing for Paris has been a reminder again of how much life is worth it. Fighting for Paris is forcing me to focus on fighting for myself.

I want to take the absolute most advantage of my time in Paris, despite my fear and my sadness of leaving home again, because I want what is best for myself on a personal, academic, and professional level.

I’ve been reflecting on what this past year has meant to me and what it has done to me and for me. When did I become so terrified to live my life? When did I become so terrified to grab life by the horns and just go for it? When did I become so scared of failure? I have forgotten how to live and how to breathe and wanting so badly to move to Paris with confidence, faith, and excitement is pushing me to do what is best for myself spiritually, mentally, and emotionally, not just academically and professionally.

I’ve been seeing a counselor for the last month, and I plan to continue to go to counseling. I’m finally starting to breathe again, and I’m finally starting to feel more and more excited about my future and Paris rather than feeling terrified.

But again. I have good days, and I have bad days. But here I am, embarking on another adventure, grabbing life by the horns.

Maybe I’m crazy? Maybe I’m crazy, but hey, I don’t think I’d want to live life any other way. It’d be too boring, and for any of you who know me, I can’t handle boring.

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