Adaptation: My Adventures in Paris

Day 1

The only thing preventing me from bursting into tears was the fact that I was on another continent. Almost 9000 miles away from what I knew as my home. I was in the city of lights. Paris. And it was the last place that I wanted to be. 

Let me explain: on Christmas Eve, while stuffing my face with meat and potatoes, my parents had announced that we would be spending our next Christmas in Paris. They wanted their children, me included, to "experience the European lifestyle." I just didn't understand why that meant having to actually live in Europe... until I graduated high school - a whole 4 years.

And so, there I was. Surrounded by an entirely different life than the one I had had only an 11 hour plane ride before. The amount of sighs I let out was countless. I was grateful for jet lag. I was too tired to actually feel anything. Besides, I had felt a lot in the past few months before moving. 

Upon finding out I had to drop my calm, suburban life to become a Parisian, there was a part of me that just shut off. It's hard to explain. I cried myself to sleep for weeks at a time. I looked up "how to make friends in France" to help calm my endless anxiety down. I invited myself to any and every party that was thrown in an attempt to get the most out of my remaining life in north California. 

The thing is, I had moved before. It stung but at least it was understandable -- it was for my father's work. This time around, we were basically picking up and leaving for croissants (no offense to the stereotypes). And being just a kid, the only thing that I could do was do nothing at all.

I still overhear my parents talking about how their daughter practically ignored them for 6 months out of spite for making her move. It was true, though. Any time I tried to explain my side of the story, why I couldn't leave, the conversation would just get turned around against me. I had nobody.