Paris Arc de Triomphe Eiffel Tower in Snow

How I Became an Expat – The Beginning

Why Did You Become an Expat?

The most frequently asked question I get about my expat life — from both Parisians, Americans and, well, pretty much anyone I meet — is “Why did you do it?” Frequently, what they really mean by that is “How can I do it?” Honestly, my answer to both questions is…

I have no idea. But I can tell you my story.

To clear the air, I must first admit that I had zero thought-out plan. Not that I recommend this approach, or at least not for everyone. It’s a pretty big deal to walk away from everything, and everyone, you know. Sometimes, those things and people are sticky. It’s easier when they’re not.

When I left the States, I was single and broke. That mean I avoided the entanglements of having to convince a partner to accompany me. No schools to research for the phantom kids. No mortgage to reconcile. And I didn’t have to extricate myself from the golden handcuffs of a lucrative corporate gig. Furthermore, a history of eclectic choices meant my community of friends wasn’t centralized to the city in which I’d spent the last 20 year. Nor was my family just across town.

I recount this bit of personal history because context matters.

And, even so, I made massive sacrifices, weakening (and even breaking) connections and creating wounds — some of which may never heal. 

Always be prepared for loss as well as gain.

Pros and Cons for Change

For me, at 46, the cost-benefit analysis came out in favor of a massive change. Not that I did any cost-benefit analysis. I was just unhappy and needing a massive shake-up. Not that I was particularly conscious of that, either. Did I mention yet how I had no plan?

I’d spend the last 20 years in Los Angeles. This is the point in the story, by the way, when Parisians throw up their hands, grab more wine and mumble about crazy Americans. After all, who, in their right mind, would choose the rainy, windy, grey cold of Paris over the land of eternal sunshine? For me, however, the city had lost its appeal. All I’d begun to see was the bits of fool’s gold. I desperately needed…something.

What is it that Mary Schmich, and more famously Baz Luhrmann said about living in California…leave before it makes you soft. I’d become as soft as melted butter. And suddenly, a friend suggested a way to get some edge back: one month in Paris.

When opportunity strikes, make the most of it. 

Rather than take a 30-day vacation that I could ill afford, I decided, in the course of about 3 days, to just chuck everything. I’d make an open-ended departure into the world at large.

It turns out that, from a legal perspective, there’s really no such thing as an open-ended departure. Or at least not one that is visa-free.

There’s this thing called the Schengen. I’ll get into that next in this series.

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