“A walk about Paris will provide lessons in history, beauty, and in the point of Life.” – Thomas Jefferson, founding father

Ah, the city of love, as we know it. 

This city brought a lot of firsts for me. In this city, I found love, lost love, reclaimed love, and obtained a new taste for food, culture, history, travel, and architecture.

I’ve visited this enchanting city three different times. Each time was a different experience to see and be with other people, making the city new every stay. 

Paris was the first city I ever visited in Europe. I briefly mentioned this in one of my previous blog posts. 

In 2009, I was 20 visiting my sister. It was the first time I’d ever flown on a plane by myself. I had my 21st birthday at the Moulin Rouge with her, and it was the most magical evening. I love that my 21st birthday wasn’t the typical cliche Las Vegas trip. 

Finally legal to drink in a city where you could legally drink wine at 16 and hard liquor at 18, there wasn’t much of a hype around alcohol with young people as it was in the U.S. I liked that. Everyone was sophisticated and classy with their alcoholic beverages. 

There is an art to people-watching. Sitting at a restaurant for only two hours is rushing, and don’t think about asking for a to-go box. The French don’t take anything to-go. They either sit, chill out, and eat it all or leave it. And the hand-made crepes you buy on the street corners are better than any dessert at a five-star restaurant. 

This is Paris.

In the States, we have buildings that are 200, maybe 300 years old and we think that is ancient but in Europe, they have buildings that are centuries old. It’s mind-blowing.

Among the many stunning structures to marvel at in Paris, I particularly laid my eyes on the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris for a long while. Starting construction in 1163 and finished in 1345, I was engrossed with the glorious gothic architecture. Each detailed stone tells a story. Looking at the gargoyles, you can almost hear them. It’s the most brilliant building I’ve ever seen.

While staying with her in Paris, my sister and I also visited Ireland and London. While in London, we went on a tour with lunch included. Almost instantly, the tour guide caught my eye, and over lunch, we talked and became Facebook friends. 

We eventually left back to Paris, and the tour guide and I kept in contact. He decided to visit me in Paris before I left back for California. 

We stayed at his hotel, and the city of love lived up to its name. He told me he loved me after nearly a month of chatting with me on Facebook. What can I say? C’est la vie. I was smitten.

My mom and the rest of my sisters joined us, and we all spent the day at Dinsey Paris. I was on a high. 

Bright-eyed, young 21-year-old, hopelessly captivated with a charming British/ Russian man in Paris. Cue the romantic movie music, please?

In Sept. 2010, after a year of skyping, the tour guide was now working for a tour company in Paris. He wanted me to visit him, so I did. 

It was my second visit at 22 to see a guy I was so madly and blindly in love with that I’d only met a couple of times. During this stay, I went on his tours and pub crawls. I learned more history and met so many interesting people. 

This was a very different visit because there was no family involved. I was strictly alone, visiting people I barely knew—no real plan. I was a leaf blowing wherever the adventure allured me. He took me by the hand and I mercifully surrendered myself to his world.

He even paid to extend my plane ticket for two extra days. But I never wanted to leave. And then tragedy struck. I found out he betrayed me on several occasions before I arrived.  

I confronted him. He admitted it. I wholeheartedly felt my soul leave my body. I was utterly shattered. I hopped on a plane the next day. I cried the whole 13 hours home. I never took any photos from this visit. Probably because I never truly felt myself around him. I was always trying to impress him and live up to some elusive standard that ultimately was never going to be enough. 

Paris would be tarnished to me for the next eight years until…

Fast forward to Aug. 2018; I was days away from turning 30 and I had been dating my then-boyfriend, Karl, for 3 ½ years. We were traveling to Northern Ireland to see my sister get married, but first, I needed to reclaim the city of love, a city so near and dear to my heart, a city that once turned dark, I needed to make it light again. It didn’t deserve the sorrow and heartache I left there nearly a decade ago.     

We arrived on a hot summer day. Records had been broken for being the hottest days yet in Paris, but we were hotter. Hot in our hunger for history, travel, food, and love. We turned Paris into our playground. I saw Paris again with new eyes and a new heart. I was happy.

We strolled through the Louvre Museum hand-and-hand and just gazed. Founded in 1793, the Louvre is the world’s most-visited, largest art museum, and a historic landmark in Paris, France. The Mona Lisa is one of the most famous art pieces in the museum and in the world. It’s so valuable it’s protected by bulletproof glass and has its own bodyguards. I felt like Karl’s Mona Lisa of our Paris.

I was with a man who loved me, truly loved me. Paris lived up to its other name, the city of lights, because on that visit, that last visit, I lit up again. It had been nearly a decade and I’d come full circle.

Paris is and always will be the city where I became, where I fall apart, and where I came back whole again. All in this beautifully, ferociously, and exceptionally city of forever light and love. 

SSxx