When we came to France, we thought it would be for a year. I’m not sure what we would have done differently knowing what we know now — it all worked out, and we’re happy. What I can say is that for the past three years, I’ve lived without knowing exactly what comes next.
Of course, that’s always true. Even if we don’t admit it.
The Illusion of Certainty
Life is unpredictable no matter where you live. But somehow, in the U.S., I believed I knew how things would go — and that belief made the uncertainty feel manageable. Less scary.
In France, I’ve felt far more aware that I’m always figuring out the next step. I don’t really know how it will all unfold.
Living here — and preparing to move here — often feels like a delicate balance between having things figured out and being willing to trust. You do what you can to prepare, and then you accept that some things will work themselves out in time, even if you don’t know how yet. And assuming no one is bleeding (the nurse in me couldn’t resist 🙃), that’s okay.
Although I’ll admit — the American in me remains suspicious that nothing happens without constant pressure and urgency. 😅
Trusting Yourself Across the Atlantic
To move to France is to commit to trusting yourself. To trust that when something comes up, you’ll figure it out — or you’ll figure out who can help.
You’ve been doing exactly that your whole life in the U.S. That skill doesn’t disappear when you cross the Atlantic.
Is it scary? Yes. But as one comedian put it: nobody gets out of this thing alive. Life is scary everywhere.
Build Your Parachute
What you can do is prepare to face the unknowns with more confidence — by building your own version of insurance.
Think of it like a parachute. A parachute doesn’t remove the risk. It makes the jump possible.
So ask yourself: what do you need to feel okay jumping into the unknown?
For us, it was two things: a promise from two friends that we could stay in their basement for a few months if we ever needed to return, and a small savings account we never touched — enough for plane tickets and unexpected housing costs if one of our booked places turned out to be terrible (this happened).
Then we went for it, knowing we couldn’t know everything. Trusting it would be okay.
You Don’t Need to See the Whole Road
Someone once told me: when you drive at night, your headlights only show a few feet of road ahead — but you make the whole trip that way. You don’t need to see everything to keep going.
That’s what moving to France asks of you. Not certainty. Just enough light for the next few feet.
Baguettes and butter 4eva, Raina❤️
