It was around twelve years ago when I took my first trip to France. Part of a school trip, it was the first time I visited Europe, and the first time I visited a foreign country without my parents.

I had long dreamed of traveling the world. Growing up, my favorite TV channel was the Travel Channel, and I loved seeing all of the different destinations. In particular, I loved Samantha Brown’s series, such as Passport to Europe. One episode had struck me in particular, one where she visits the south of France, including a charming little town called Èze.

For four years in high school I had been taking French, the first foreign language I studied seriously. I loved French, and still do, and I was thrilled to find out that towards the end of my senior year there would be a trip to France. I attended the presentation of the trip, and recognized immediately the photos of Èze that were included among the first destinations we would be visiting. I knew that I had to be on that trip.

The whole trip was exhilarating for me. It was the first time I was away from home by myself, and as I was on the cusp of going away to college, it was my first taste of what it meant to be on your own somewhere. With the responsibility also came an immense wave of freedom: the freedom to choose your next step.

*Our trip also took us to the Alps at Chamonix-Mont-Blanc*

All of the years I had dreamed of traveling began by sleeping on the floor of the Paris airport during our layover. I didn’t know then that really, that is half of travel. We flew to Nice, and finally I was able to leave the airport and set my feet on European pavement. We quickly went to the coast, and for the first time I saw the Mediterranean Sea. When I felt the stones beneath my feet and saw the clear, richly blue water, I was hooked. Even today, the Mediterranean is a sign of comfort for me, a sign of being close to home, whether that’s in Barcelona, Greece, Palestine, or Palermo.

*My first view of the Mediterranean, Nice*

When I found the photos from this trip recently, I already knew there would be many to sort through (I love taking photos). What struck me, however, was that they were the same type of photos I take today: of flowers, of dogs and small animals, cemeteries, and the sea. Maybe all this time that we think we are changing, we are really just evolving, becoming more and more “ourselves,” who we always have been.

*A small goat spotted at The Queen’s Hamlet, Versailles*

For a long time, growing up in a small town, I felt misunderstood by my peers. I was always looking to what was beyond us, and I didn’t feel like I fit in. On this trip, wandering through the small alleys of Èze and the streets of Paris, I felt like I was finally coming into my own, that I was stepping into my place in the world. Like I had found a place where I could be myself, without any presuppositions about who I was “supposed to be.”

*“The Three Shades” by August Rodin at the Musée Rodin, Paris*

One stop we made when in the South of France was to a perfumery, the parfumerie Fragonard. We learned all about the production and application of perfume, something that I had previously certainly thought nothing about. But this lesson instilled in me a certain elegance that comes with applying a nice perfume everyday, even if you were just staying around the house. A certain joie de vivre, a joy of living, that is important to have, as it conveys a respect for one’s life in all its moments.

*My first macaron cookie - definitely a petit bonheur (a small happiness!)*

I still buy my perfume from Fragonard, and have turned others onto it as well. I like to buy their sample collection, where you have small vials of different scents so you can try more of them. They are also easy to travel with. As I was heading back to spend some time at home recently, I reached into the box to choose a scent for the journey. I selected île d’amour, which literally means “island of love.” It is the same scent that I chose twelve years ago at the perfumery when we were able to buy a small bottle as a souvenir. In French, souvenir means “memory,” and as I wear this perfume today, I carry with me the memory of my past self, who was enchanted with this new part of the world that she could only have dreamed of visiting. I carry the memory of how I am living my dream come true.

Going through some boxes at home a few years ago, I found a card I had saved from my mom. She must have given it to me before this first visit to France. In it, she told me to enjoy my trip, and added: “I don’t think it will be long before you will be back in Europe.” I have goosebumps reading this card now, because just over a year after she wrote it, I was moving to study in Rome, Italy, for a year. And the rest is history.

*The beautiful Lac d’Annecy, the lake at Annecy*

France, and Paris in particular, would go on to be a significant place for me, with several trips there during turning points in my life. It has been a place that I have found myself during periods of transition, a reference point when I am looking out into the unknown. A place that I can always come back to, and walk down a quiet street knowing only myself, but knowing myself fully.

*The famous Art Nouveau “Métropolitain” sign*

We can never know what is waiting for us on the other side of a giant leap, what is waiting for us when the terminal doors open to a new country that we’ve never been to before. What we can recognize is our hearts pulling us in a new direction, a slight twinge when we hear of something new, something that our intuition is guiding us to. What we can do is learn to listen to those little whispers calling us to our destiny. I did not know that what I would experience on that first trip to France, but I knew that I had to be there. And that decision, even if I did not know it at the time, would be the first step onto a path of continuing to try new experiences and push myself out of my comfort zone, to seek out what lies beyond the little corner of the world I already know by heart, and to be surprised to find myself at home in places I’ve never been.