Five whole years ago, I boarded a transatlantic flight that changed my life. That fateful day began a chapter that will forever mark my life. No, that’s not an overstatement. What was supposed to be a short gap year turned into an expat adventure. From traveling across Europe to experiencing French culture with each of my senses, the past five years have teemed with adventures and life lessons. I’m now fluent in French and carry out the majority of my life in another language. Like, what?! And in all honesty, on the day of my five-year anniversary, I was busy dealing with work and to-do list items. But I felt it fitting to pause and reflect on this wild, unplanned journey and to celebrate this benchmark. It certainly hasn’t been easy, but undeniably worth it. I’m sharing five words to sum up the past five years: how I’ve grown and what I’ve learned.
Resilience • Opportunity • Faith • Community • Temporality
Overview
In January 2020, I applied for the TAPIF program to be an English teaching assistant in a French public school. Covid threw a major wrench into my plan, but after lots of waiting, the program was given the green light to continue, despite closed borders. Should I really move halfway across the world during a pandemic? I was too far into the process to give up; I didn’t come this far to get the go-ahead and then not take advantage of it. I was assigned to the city of Marseille, a town where I didn’t know a soul. And over the past few years, it has become home.
I completed my first year as a teaching assistant in Marseille and decided to renew for a second one. In between the two school years, I worked as an au pair. Upon finishing my second year of teaching, I started a job in the student exchange industry. Et me voilà. Five years later. 60 months. 1825 days.
I’ve had the privilege of discovering so many corners of France: Albi, Alsace, Annecy, the Alps, Bordeaux, Cannes, Gorges du Verdon, Lyon, Montpellier, Nantes, Nice and beyond. For work, I’ve had the opportunity to travel to Paris, Amsterdam, Saint Tropez and Spain.
Resilience
In September 2020, I showed up to the airport with my freshly printed visa and my face mask to jet off for my teaching contract in France. The United employee refused to print my boarding pass and insisted that I wasn’t allowed into France, due to Covid restrictions. He didn’t care one bit about my work contract or my visa — the one I’d flown to Los Angeles from Missouri to get. After lots of arguing, they finally printed my tickets and told me, “Don’t be surprised when they send you back on a plane later today.” I cried my way through security and boarded a jet with maybe 30 people on it. Landing in Paris, I had no problems and guess what? They let me in. And I’m still here. (So there’s that, Brian from United!)
If only I knew that this would be far from the last hurdle I’d face. It was a bumpy start, and from Day 1, resilience was the key to success. As glamorous as living in southern France sounds, expat life demands grit. That time I had tonsillitis and had to pull out WordReference for most of the doctor’s appointment to translate? Getting a root canal and not understanding half of what the dentist is explaining? Trying to explain your stomach bug symptoms in French to a doctor? Don’t even get me started on my first pap smear in France…
Attempting to get my numéro fiscal at two different tax offices so that I could finally properly file French taxes? Mending a broken heart when your family is on the other side of the globe? Missing family events like 1st birthday parties and weddings? Adopting a French rescue cat and figuring out animal health vocab in French? Waiting hours in line at the prefecture to renew my visa? Often having to ask people to repeat or explain something in different terms? Being three flights away from family?
If five years in France has taught me anything, it’s that oftentimes, the hard stuff is the most rewarding. It’s one challenge after another, but every overcome défi is a sweet victory. And that asking for help is the key to success.
Opportunity
This was *never* the plan from the get go, to still be in France in 2025. The initial plan was to take a gap year following college graduation and to return to the United States to find a big-girl job. When looking at my path over the past five years, it seems succinct and clear. But in reality, it was anything but.
During my first year doing the TAPIF program, the world shut down once again. No indoor dining, constant masking, social distancing. When it came time to renew my teaching contract in January, I hesitated. Was life in France during a partial lockdown the dream? Not exactly, but I still found opportunities to do small trips within France and practice my French. I decided to renew my contract in hopes that life wouldn’t be under lockdown during my second contract.
And it wasn’t. I took the opportunity to renew my contract and received a new placement in Marseille once again, in a school that I ended loving much more.
Once my second teaching contract up, I had to make a decision because I couldn’t do a third year of teaching. Nor did I want to. With nearly two years under my belt, I’d made friends, set down roots and found a “home away from home” in Marseille. So I got to work on finding a job in France. And it just so happens that a Missouri family friend’s father-in-law’s company was looking to hire. The job wasn’t very related to my journalism degree, but the opportunity fell into my lap. (After lots of emails and requests for business networking lunches.)
And I took it. And it was a great decision.
None of this is what I’d planned. It was simply making the best decision at the right time with the opportunities before me.
Faith
I would be remiss to not underline how these five years have chiseled my faith. I spent my entire childhood and even my college years in the same state. My faith played an important role in my life in America. Little did I know that leaving my comfort zone and all familiarity, this move would allow me to find new depths to my faith. Choosing the unconventional path can feel exhilarating and lonely at the same time. Am I doing the right thing? Where should I be in life right now? I’ve blazed a trail for myself that no one in my close circle has traversed. Ninety percent of my friends are: still in Missouri, engaged, married, pregnant, raising kids, and/or working the 9-to-5. And my life status doesn’t fit into a single mold or category. And even though I love the life I’ve created for myself, it can feel profoundly lonely at times to be in a lane of my own.
The weight of the unknown and the challenges of not living in your home country (see the many paragraphs above) are heavy and impossible to manage alone. My faith has been my anchor, my light, my hope. I could not have successfully traversed these five years without His Presence.
And it transcends far beyond the individual level. I’ve had the privilege of being a part of a local church, serving and living out my faith in a different culture and context. It’s messy and beautiful. What a joy to discover the depths of my faith and how it’s lived out thousands of miles from home. What a delight to experience it all in another language and to explore another dimension.
I know there’s nowhere I can flee from His Presence. Every one of my days was ordained before I lived it. There is nothing that can separate me from His love. He is sovereign, and there’s nothing I can do to ultimately derail my life. I choose to trust Him with all my heart and to not lean on my own understanding. His Word is a lamp unto my feet and light unto my path. Every day is a gift — no matter what continent I’m on.
With five years of life in France under my belt, I created a 32-page resource with my best tips, tricks and advice. Read the first chapter of the France Field Guide here.
Community
If I had to describe my life in one word, it would be “colorful.” These past five years have been filled with meeting so many wonderful people and building a community from literal scratch. I didn’t know a soul when I landed in France five years ago, and today I’m both proud and moved to see the community surrounding me today. I’ve made friends from France, Germany, Cameroon, Burundi, Gabon, Iraq, England, Spain, Aruba, Israel, Belgium, Madagascar, and beyond. That makes my heart sing! What a big world we live in and what a joy to discover people and stories from every corner of the globe.
I had the privilege to be a bridesmaid in two different French weddings (hey, Priscillia and Abi). My 9-to-5 is spent mainly with Frenchies and has allowed me to experience French culture first-hand. I’ve had the joy of living with a French roommate. It’s astonishing to discover the depth of a bond in a language you started learning in high school.
One of my closest friends on this journey was the au pair before me in my host family. And being the American girls we are, we were obligated to go to the Jonas Brothers concert in Paris last year. Honestly, a life highlight for me.
My Mizzou era even spilled into my France years. When my former classmate Amber moved to Spain, we had the opportunity to meet in Portugal. Tori, Nandi and I took university French classes together and were able to meet up in France during our teaching contracts.
And not to mention my community across the pond. FaceTime calls with my sisters is a Sunday night staple. Thanks to FaceTime, I’ve kept in touch with my childhood friend Ally. My dad and I have been sending each other snail mail for the past few years. I’m so grateful to my family who has supported me over the years. Several Mizzou friends have also made the trek to Europe and given us the perfect excuse to meet up. (Thanks for the visits, Kait and Mimi!)
I have friends from all over France and all over the world, and no matter how long my France journey lasts, it’s this community that gives my life color.
Temporality
One of the things that has struck me most during my time in France is the temporality of life. For better or worse, life changes in the blink of an eye. I’ve always been the girl with a plan, Type A, ducks-in-a-row kinda gal. These five years have taught me so much about rolling with the punches and adapting to this ever-changing life. Those feelings of homesickness are temporary. Those “highs” of traipsing through the Côte d’Azur or of traveling to Paris for work are also temporary.
The temporality of this experience makes me want to soak up every last drop. Because no, it won’t last forever. But the ephemerality is also an encouragement. No, these homesick, heart-broken and sad feelings will not last forever. They too shall pass.
Reflecting on the past five years, I get whiplash. My daily life has drastically changed from teaching 12 hours per week to working 35 hours per week. My social circles have ebbed and flowed; my relationship status has changed. I’ve lived in four different apartments. As a deeply emotional person, it’s easy to get stuck in the feeling of the moment. But the simultaneous challenge and encouragement is that this moment will not last forever. Make the most of this opportunity, and find peace in that heavy emotions don’t last forever.
“So when are you moving back to America?”
“Are you going to stay in France forever?”
Nothing makes me more anxious than questions like these. Because if the past five years has taught me anything, it’s that life doesn’t go as you meticulously planned. And it’s okay to not know. Every day is a gift, and I plan to make the most of the opportunities before me, wherever that may be.
With five years of life in France under my belt, I created a 32-page resource with my best tips, tricks and advice. Read the first chapter of the France Field Guide here.