Liberté, Life Abroad, & Parisian Bars à Vin
pondering big decisions, Paris, and (naturally) wine bars
My interpretation of freedom is understanding and accepting your full autonomy as a human. It’s a powerful thing knowing every decision you make in life is yours, but as we know "with great power comes great responsibility". Within the power of choice lies responsibility for consequences both positive and negative. This self-determination is often at odds with the part of our human nature that seeks community, shared responsibility, and advice. We often turn to our friends, partners, therapists, and managers to tell us what to do amidst the most difficult crossroads in our lives. However, we are only fully free when we accepted that the people in our lives we are fortunate to have listen to our dilemmas are meant to be sounding boards, safe spaces for us to debate our options aloud. Freedom is to accept that the often-burdensome task of making extremely difficult decisions is ours alone. Once we harness and synthesize this understanding within ourselves, we can extend this freedom to those around us by listening, holding space, and acting as a true confidante for them to be the freest version of themselves as they work through their decisions.
An American in Paris London
One of the most difficult decisions I’ve had to make in my life (and continue to make) is living abroad, hundreds of miles away from family and friends. A decision I am so very grateful to have the freedom and privilege to make, and one that is not without its consequences. It all started in 2015 with my inaugural trip to Paris. My aunt had always wanted to take me and as a worldly woman well versed in art, history, food, and wine, I knew she’d be the perfect travel companion. We’d wake up with the sun to ensure we had optimal choices at the Boulangerie, float through museums or flea markets during the day, sip Sancerre at golden hour, and finish the evening with Opera and profiteroles. I knew my life would never be the same after that trip; it was a defining moment of my life, I felt it in my bones and it both excited and terrified me. I had moved to New York City 5 years early in pursuit of something bigger, and damn did it deliver. With every corner I turned and person I met my world and mind expanded, I felt small, and opportunities and ways of living felt vast. In Paris I felt this on a scale I didn’t know was possible, and the craving to immerse myself in it was stronger than anything I’d ever known.
I returned home from that trip a few pounds heavier and with a determination to move to Paris so fiery it could have burned down all of Manhattan. I’m a woman who loves to take wild leaps, but I’m also a woman who understands that in order to stick the landing you need a plan, a healthy mix I get from my mother & father. So, a plan is what I made, I started studying wine academically, and building out an international book of business at my tech company. Moving to a new country is extremely challenging, and I knew I’d need a solid work visa and income to make it sustainable. I wasn’t in this for a sabbatical, I wanted to create a life. My company had offices all over the globe, Paris included, and I felt like this intracompany transfer was my ticket abroad. During the days I was building a meticulous business case on why it was imperative I operate from Europe, and at night I was feverously studying wine flashcards. After three years of preparation, I finally felt ready to state my case. I had poured hours into spreadsheets, charts, graphs, and account plans, crunching the numbers to demonstrate just how valuable I would be supporting our global clients from a more central time-zone. I’ll never forget how proud I was presenting this data to our CEO and President, because I was so dang confident I had put in the work. I knew this was it, and “it” was something alright, just not exactly the something I had expected.
My stakeholders were impressed with the business plan, it did make sense for our team to operate more globally, and I was the right person to do it. There was one problem however, and how I managed to leave this out of my master plan makes me laugh to this day and humbles me as a silly American who has a tendency to think the world revolves around us. …I didn’t speak French… How was I planning on conducting business in a city where I couldn’t even properly hold a conversation with the doorman at the office?? This was years before Emily in Paris but you get the gist, and I’m grateful my company saved me from being a bumbling, entitled American forcing their way into spaces they don’t quite fit. Luckily for me, my leadership team still believed in me, and wanted me abroad. “How about London, it’s only a 2-hour train ride from Paris?” London? To be honest, I never actually had thought about London (at all really). It just seemed like this place where people spoke English and aside from driving on the opposite side of the road it had to be pretty similar to America right? Wrong, I would later find out, and continue to joyfully find out on a daily basis. I agreed to visit London, as well as Paris and Hamburg where I’d travel quarterly to check in on business. London felt right, it gave me that same sense of “something bigger” that New York and Paris had, a place where I’d be comfortably uncomfortable, forced to learn and grow every day, never complacent, always discovering something new. Since I’ve been living in London, I visit my beloved Paris at least twice a year and fall in love with new places every time. My lesson in all of this has been not to stress too much about making even the most important of decisions. Control what you can, work towards what you want, and know that no matter how free willed you feel, the universe may have other plans (and she’s always going to win).
Paris is on my mind this week as I’m packing for my annual Spring visit, looking forward to croissants in the mornings, afternoons filled with galleries and gardens in full bloom, and evenings tucked away in some of the best wine bars in the world. For my paid subscribers, read on for 7 Parisian ‘Bars a Vin’ that are topping my list lately. Until next time, Santé! 🥂
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