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6 of the Best Style Tips I Learned from France

Published on November 16, 2016January 10, 2017 by EmileeLeave a comment

A little known fact about me is that I have a degree in fashion design. I don’t usually talk about it because in the professional world I don’t use those skills as much, but I grew up making clothes and sewing and I’ve always loved style. I also grew up watching entirely too many black and white movies, so I have a soft spot for classy clothing and pearl earrings. 1950’s Paris *sigh*. When I lived in France one of the parts that I loved was seeing all of the beautiful European style. I would have loved it more if I was making any amount of money close to a salary so I could buy any of these clothes, but not having the income to splurge made me vastly more aware of the trends and how I would apply them to my own life, once I got back into a position to. Here are some of the things I’ve learned:

Simplicity is Queen
One of the most beautiful things about living in France was how simple the style and lifestyle is. Now it’s important to note that we’re not talking Scandinavian minimalism (although I’m sure there are houses that follow that) but the French have a clean, yet intricate, attention to detail that I absolutely adore. I love the minimalism, mixed with color and patterns and my heart was won over by the beautiful patterns that you can find in so many homes.

Pearls Solve a Multitude of Sins
Having a bad day? Not feeling like feeling you’re usual classy self? Throw on some pearl stud earrings! This is one of my favorite style hacks because it makes me feel like Audrey Hepburn on days when I’m feeling more like Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street. And who doesn’t want to look like Audrey? No hands? I didn’t think so. Not ready to throw down on real pearls? I’ve found some really great pairs of studs at Nordstrom that do the trick, while on a budget.

Mix and Max

You’re probably thinking that the French spend millions each year on clothing. And, of course, for some you’re probably right. But some of the classiest women I ever met taught me the very important lesson to mixing where you shop. This means you may have a designer wool peacoat, but your t-shirt is from Abercrombie. This lesson taught me that it’s not just about what you’re wearing, it’s about how you’re wearing it. And another key is to buy quality, over quantity. When you do splurge, splurge on statement pieces that are going to last you years. There’s a really great book I have called Paris Chic that does a great job of outlining Parisian and French fashion. Your wardrobe will thank you for the $1.99 you spent buying it.

Treat Yourself
The French know how to pamper themselves, and I don’t mean going out and coming back with a carload of clothes charged on their credit card. I mean lotions, bubble baths and perfumes. I mean those things that make you feel like gold – even with nothing on. Spending the extra dollars to buy quality skin care products is worth it. Treat yourself, and your body, by investing in some bath salts or some soothing lotions. You’ll be surprised how lovely you feel without even needing to spend money on clothes.

Scarves
If there’s one style tip that I’m so glad I learned when living in France, it’s the beauty of scarves. From light and airy to bulky and bold, scarves aren’t really something I invested in before I lived in Europe. But I’m definitely now riding the scarf train! A great scarf can not only double your options on a simple sweater, they’re a lot less expensive than buying a whole new wardrobe. And they’re warm. I’m all about the warm. I’ve found some of my favorites at Nordstrom (because, despite popular opinion, Nordstrom isn’t always crazy expensive, if you know the right places to look), but I also love to buy them at World Market.

Kids Wear
One of the cutest things about living in France was definitely the children. The child style goals I now have are insanely high. Like, I kind of want to fly to France yearly so that I can dress my future children. Yeah, that bad. The cute little animals, the cute little patterns. All of it. If you’re looking to replicate all the cuteness (or just see what I’m talking about), you can type in “French kids clothing” in Pintrest and envy away, or hop over to Petit Bateau which has a U.S. website but totally French kids style. J’adore.

Review: Pilbara Au Pair Service

Published on September 21, 2016December 14, 2016 by EmileeLeave a comment

Let’s talk becoming an au pair.

I get a lot of people telling me how amazing the whole au pair journey sounds, and I’m always a little bit hesitant to allow them to romanticize my experience. When I was an au pair I signed up using an online service that was great for connecting with a family, but offered about the same amount of the security that a Craigslist purchase does.

After a mess with my first host family, and a less than ideal experience with my second, I would have loved to have worked with an agency that had supported me.

I don’t write very many posts reviewing services, but this comes from one that a close friends has used, and which, I feel, represents a business that cares as much about the well being of their au pairs as they do their host families.

The service specializes in western Australia, so unfortunately they’re not global, but if you’re thinking about going down the path of becoming an au pair, I can definitely recommend them!

The best part? If you’ve already gone through other avenues to find an au pair position, this service will also help you work out agreements, contracts or just having support in your current position! Click HERE for more information! Or check out this FAQ Sheet !

You can also check out Pilbara Au Pair Services on social media: Twitter, Instagram, Facebook

Memoirs of A French Au Pair: 1 Year Back In The U.S.

Published on June 14, 2016November 8, 2016 by Emilee8 Comments

This time last year I was packing my suitcases and planning on getting the hell out of France. I was so over it. I was over my job. Over my living situation and over the idea that I had made the right decision moving there in the first place. In short, I was over it (and everything that ‘it’ encompassed).

If I sound like an angsty teen here, I apologize. And then I unapologize. Because life is hard sometimes, and we have a right to look up to the heavens and shout, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING BRINGING ME HERE!?” There was a lot of that when I lived in France. And that’s okay. Because I don’t believe that God wants subservient robots and I strongly believe that he likes us having real dialog with him. Even when things are hard. Especially when things are hard.

When I moved to France I thought it was going to solve all of my problems. I was sick of seeing people get engaged/married or posting baby pics on Facebook and I decided to DO something with my life. So I quit my job, bought a plane ticket and went (way harder than that, but you get the point). Then the first bad thing happened… and then another. And another and another and another and finally I started to wonder if I had made the right decision? Had I done something with my life, or had I ruined the perfectly good life I had already had?

Risk.

I’m not usually a very risky person. In fact, I would go as far as to say I adore being comfortable and secure. I don’t gamble. I don’t really like taking chances. I’ve ordered the exact same flavor of bubble tea at the exact same place for six years. It’s who I am. I like knowing what I’m getting into. So when I felt the extreme push in my life to move to France, I felt so certain that it was a divine intervention. Let’s be real, it pretty much had to be.

Fast forward nine months and my little idealistic dream boat had been battered and thrown into the shoals. It wasn’t painted and glowing with idealistic promises, anymore. That shit (sorry, mom) was borderline Titanic-post-iceberg status. All I wanted to do was to run away. So I did. And I’m okay with that decision, but I what I did next was wrong.

I tried to ignore and repress and never ever ever think about France.

In fact, I can honestly say I’ve been almost entirely removed from my experience up until the last couple of weeks. It’s very rare that I’ll talk about my experiences there. In fact, I basically don’t talk about that year, at all. At first I told myself that it was because I was too busy or that I had too much on my plate. But the reality was that I didn’t want to have to think about the fact that I had failed at something (or, at least, my definition of failure). France was not magical, fun, beautiful, a fairytale or anything like Audrey Hepburn described it. That’s a tourists dream. Not this expat’s reality.

And at the end of it all I’m still not sure that I have an answer for, “What I learned.” I know that I’ve become a much different person, because I can see it in the reflection of the people who were closest to me, before I moved. Since those changes were gradual they’re much harder for me to personally distinguish.

But I have changed. And I can feel it.

This year back in the U.S. has been one of the most hectic and crazy that I’ve ever had. At times I’ve felt like I was drowning in an ocean, too overwhelming to overcome. Other times I’ve felt so overwhelmingly loved and supported. Overall, this has been a year of drastic highs and earth-shattering lows.

I can’t even believe that one year has already passed. On the one hand it feels like no time at all, and on the other I feel like five years has passed in the course of one. Such is life.

It’s taken almost the entirety of the year for me to finally start having some pieces fall into place. A lot is still up in the air, but things will hopefully click, soon. Over the past year I’ve been bouncing between more jobs than I can count, I’ve moved four times, and I’ve been dutifully pay off the debt (Paris is hella expensive) that I incurred while living abroad (halfway done!) in addition to my student loans (also halfway there). If there’s one thing I learned in France, it’s that I NEVER want to have to think about student loans again, and the sooner they’re gone the better. I hate how “normal” it is for people my age to have tens of thousands of dollars in debt before they really even start their adult lives. It’s basically nonexistent in so many European countries, and I cannot wait to be done with them for good.

The highlights of this year? I’ve gone to three conventions, which was something I had placed on my bucket list while I was living in France. I’ve taken one trip out of the country (Scotland, Ireland, England) and three smaller trips (soon to be four) within the U.S. I’ve seen Riverdance (twice!) and Lord of the Dance, I started a Star Wars painting that will someday be awesome, and I started the process of writing/putting together a comic book with one of my friends. All in all this year has been so incredibly hard, but I’m so thankful for the friends who have held my hand, wrapped me in wool blankets with cups of tea and given me comic books to help me through.

Moving back from France was a really hard decision. It was a hit to my pride (because I honestly didn’t think I would ever come back) and it was a life lesson in how much I actually do need others to make it through this crazy circus called life. Today I was looking at pictures from just two years ago and it’s insane to think about how different things are, now. I was a completely different person. From my ideals, to the way that I approach life, I can honestly say that basically nothing is the same. Maybe this transformation will prove beneficial in the upcoming year. Maybe it won’t. But the point of this long-winded tale is: Fail you might, but try you must.

So here’s to one year of making shit work (sorry for the swearing, mom). The past few years have been just about anything other than what I thought they would be. And that’s OKAY. I give you all permission to be confused, and angry, and elated and to feel torn in a hundred different directions. Life doesn’t have to be exactly what we plan, we just have to be ready to keep moving forward, not matter what is thrown our way.

Invincible Me

Published on January 28, 2016March 21, 2016 by EmileeLeave a comment

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Memories are funny things. Childhood memories can be filled with imagined wonder, or overwhelming pain. And, looking back at my crazy bookworm artist braided hair younger self; I see so much more insight into who I am, and who I am becoming, as an adult.

Looking back, I see all of the laughter, the imagination, the beauty, the pain, the curiosity, the anger and confusion – and I sometimes think I was so much more intact when I was a child. Because, back then, I didn’t worry about being filtered. I laughed and danced because it was time to laugh and it was time to dance, not because I had been told by society to do, or not to do, one or the other.

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about when I was 11 years old.

My grandma, who I had only met once, had died and I was laying on my bed, curled in a crescent shape. Alone. And wondering if I should cry. At the time, I suppose it would have been the right thing to do. But all I could do was sit there, curled up, wondering whether I was supposed to do it.

That was the beginning of a pretty unhealthy relationship with tears.

You see, I was raised in a very non-emotional family. We didn’t cry, hug, say ‘I love you’ or talk about emotions in pretty much any other way. We were strong. We were invincible. Or, at least, in my naivety, that’s what I thought.

Over the next decade I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry at sad movies, funerals, when pets died, or when sad things happened in the world. I was invincible. I was strong. Or that’s what I told myself.

I still can count the number of people who have seen me cry on one hand. It’s a pretty rare occasion, and like any natural phenomena it’s usually brief and then gone, like it never happened in the first place. Crying just wasn’t ever an acceptable means of communication in my life.

Then I moved to France.

Americans make fun of the French, a lot, for how emotional they are. And, to a certain extent, those jokes aren’t always wholly unfounded. In my one year in Paris, I saw more tantrums, and crying fits than I had in my entire existence. And I’m not talking about from the kids.

Maybe it was the culture that was surrounding me, or maybe it was the trauma of being alone in a country 5,000 miles away from your next closest friend. But, when I lived in France I cried – quite a lot. In fact, I wouldn’t even say ‘cry’ is a solid enough word. I wept. A lot.

And while it still wasn’t in front of people, and there still weren’t tantrums involved, I think I have to thank France for giving me back my tears.

You see, something I’ve realized, since being back in the US, is how much more emotional I am. When shit is sad, I cry (sorry, for the swearword, mom). When I’m upset, I cry. When I see something heartbreaking in the news, I care…and sometimes I cry.

And while I may not be single-handedly supporting the Kleenex industry (yet), that’s a really big deal for me. But what’s more substantial, in my opinion, is the realization that for so long, I believed a lie.

Crying and caring hasn’t made me weaker.

It has made me so much stronger. I’m able to invest so much more in the people and relationships around me. It has pushed me forward, and allowed me to focus on creating a solution, rather than trying to control the problem.

I hear a lot about people who don’t cry: they’re tough, they’re cool, they’re manly, they’re invincible. But the truth is that we are broken. And don’t get me wrong, that’s not necessarily a bad thing – brokenness builds beauty all the time.

But, speaking from the other side, I’ve learned so much more about my own ability to rise higher, dig deeper and pursue and dream more. There’s something empowering about the ability to cry. In a way, I like to think of it like a phoenix burning. It can hurt to feel pain, and to allow your body to process it. But, in the end, it creates something even more beautiful; something renewed.

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Your Questions Answered: Becoming An Au Pair

Published on October 13, 2015January 15, 2016 by EmileeLeave a comment

I’ve been getting a lot of questions, lately, from various sources about my au pair experience and I thought I would do a kind of “post au pair year” post to answer a few of your questions! So here it is, the good the bad and the ugly.

One of the questions I get the most is whether or not I “liked” my experience. First off, this is a broad question because asking if I “liked” an entire year of my life is about as easy to answer as if you asked a five year old if they liked the last 24 hours of their life – they probably don’t remember, there were probably good and bad things that happened, but they’re still alive so it’s all good.

The thing is, being an au pair is the same as being in any other work profession – there are good days and there are bad days. The thing that is different, is that you don’t get to leave work when you’re having a bad day. You can’t walk away from your boss, you can’t fake sick days (or even take sick days, in general – I knew several au pairs (myself included) who worked through colds, the flu, and even the chicken pox. That’s right – she didn’t get off from work when she had chicken pox). While being romaticized mentally by many, I would say the most accurate/closest portrayal I’ve ever seen is The Nanny Diaries. It’s no piece of cake, that’s for sure.

The best parts of being an au pair would probably be the same as when you’re working as a nanny – you have A LOT of free time. While some families require for you to work in the morning (taking the kids to school) as well as the afternoon, my au pair family only required that I worked after school, meaning I started work every day at about 3pm (NOTE: Except Wednesdays – which, in France, is a no/half school day – depending on the age of your children). Which means I had time during the day to go out and do things, or just stay in my house and work on projects. This also meant that I was able to come back a little bit later from (the many) weekend trips that I made.

This brings up another really great fact and that is: All au pair families are not the same. These differences can include, but are not limited to:

Whether you work mornings or just afternoons
Whether you have a room in the house or separate
Whether your transportation (public transportation card/card/etc) is paid for
Whether your communication is paid for – some families will pay for your phone
Whether your au pair family will have you babysit on weekends
Whether the family will pay you for working additional days/nights (some don’t)
Whether your language classes/lessons are paid for
How much you get paid and how you get paid (direct deposit/cash each week/monthly)

Most of these things didn’t work in my favor with my au pair situation. While I did have weekend freedom, as well as no need to babysit (generally, since there were older kids who could), I didn’t have any additional resources paid for, which did make living a little bit harder, overall (since actual pay only came to 80 euro/week). This is something to REALLY think about/ask about when you’re finding an au pair family. Look at your own personal finances and make sure that things align with what your income will be for the next year of living in a foreign country and make sure that you fill in gaps with your own savings, before the move.

My biggest piece of advice, in general, would be for you to check, double check, Skype, phone call, email and talk to your potential family as much as possible. I would also highly suggest talking to past nannies or au pairs that they’ve had. While I wouldn’t recommend the family that I worked with, I have been asked by other au pairs who were thinking about working for them, and I was able to let them know. Communication is key! This is also a great indicator of how you will be able to communicate once you move there – if your au pair family isn’t willing to communicate with you while you’re abroad that might be an indicator of other underlying problems with the position, which will come up once you actually get there.

I would also say make sure you have a really great support system. The only reason I was able to come out sane, after my time in France was because I had such an amazing support system back at home that was encouraging me, sending me snail mail and Skyping me. Asking your au pair family about whether they know other au pair families in their city, s also a really great way to connect with other au pairs.

When it comes down to it, being in a foreign country is really isolating and can be incredibly lonely (like a whole different level of lonely than I had ever experienced before). Having this support system really CAN make or break your experience. Also – if you know you enjoy living in a city and being active socially don’t take a position in a small town. I know it might seem adventurous, but overall it probably isn’t going to be a good decision. Keep true to yourself, even if the “perfect” family doesn’t come around right away, it’s worth making sure they’re the right family for you, before making the leap.

Maneuvering the realm of being an au pair is an adventure that isn’t for everyone. There are benefits to leaving your comfort zone and striking out in the world, but make sure that you look before you leap. As I always say with any kind of travel, don’t take on something in order to escape something else. Make sure you do your research, and make sure you aren’t settling.

And, as always: If you ever have questions or comments, or find yourself in an au pair position that just doesn’t seem right email me at morehouseemilee@gmail.com

Keep Moving Forward

Published on May 31, 2015 by Emilee1 Comment

Wouldn’t it be nice if we received an award every time we achieved something? Or at least a certificate of achievement? Something to mark that “You did it!” complete with balloons and a long-winded speech about how “promising” the rest of your life is going to be, and how “the best is yet to come.” Wouldn’t that be great!?

Unfortunately, reality check: That’s not life in the real world. That’s not how things work when you’re an adult. There aren’t balloons for every occasion, or huge groups of people to always celebrate with you. Sometimes, when you achieve something, the celebration is just for and with yourself.

This week is a week of “lasts” for me, in Paris. It is the last week I’ll be in France, and tomorrow starts off by being my last ever Monday as an au pair. And, as much as the decision to leave weighed heavy on me initially, I can now say that I am very much ready to go.

To quote a phrase born out of Parisian storytelling, this year has been, “the best of times, and the worst of times.” I feel as though I’ve been away from home for a hundred years. When I look back over this year I really don’t know how I’ve managed to hold on this long, but although I’m leaving a couple of months early, I know that it is the right timing and the right decision for me.

It’s kind of funny, you often hear about the nervousness of starting a life in a new place, but you seldom hear about the nervousness of setting out on the path to start a new life in a place you’ve known all your life. But it is a real thing.
For some reason, the thought of returning to the U.S. absolutely terrifies me. What has changed? Who has changed? What differences, no matter how seemingly minute, will be present?

And while all of these questions keep swimming around in my head, I have this little voice in the back of my head reminding me that it’s gonna be okay, and that I’ll figure it out. And maybe that’s the biggest lesson that I’ll take away from this year: The ability to have an inner peace when nothing externally seems to possibly be headed on a track to success.

Because, in all honesty, this year went NOTHING like I thought it would. In fact, I would say it went the exact opposite, in every possible way, direction that I thought it would go. Every plan, every goal, every idea that I had for this year seemed to somehow have been lost along the way of me forging forward along this path.

But that’s okay. Somehow it feels like those directions weren’t realistic, or (perhaps, more importantly) in any way mature. Life does not follow the rule sheet that we write before setting out on whatever road it brings us. It doesn’t take into consideration our wishes, or our safety or our hopes.

Those things are up to us. And throughout this year I’ve had to continually strive toward the ideals, rather than the finite details of what I thought this year would/should entail.

So, let me take a moment to share those with you:

This year I learned to press on, even after being broken.

This year I learned to listen to my instincts and to follow through with them.

This year I learned what true spontaneity means, and how to use it to my advantage.

This year I learned to stand up for myself, and to fight for what I value.

This year I learned what makes me happy (Hint: it has nothing to do with money)

This year I learned how to use social media wisely, and how to disconnect.

This year I learned how to open my heart.

This year I learned to be authentic and vulnerable in the things I pursue.

This year I learned to let go of my plans and ideas of how things “should go.”

This year I learned the importance, value and absolute necessity of friendship.

In 1 week a new chapter will be starting for me. There won’t be any speeches or ceremonies or any crazy rave parties…but that’s okay. I survived 10 months living in another country, with random strangers, speaking a language I was hardly fluent at and living in a culture that seemed completely opposite to what I was used to.

I DID IT. And recognizing that for myself is enough.

This time of year a lot of students are forging forward past the signposts of a new chapter in their lives. They did it! They’re graduating! And yes, there will be the balloons and parties and cards and speeches.

But, if there was one thing I wish that I could go back to tell my graduating self, it would have been that the world post graduation is a whole lot darker, and a whole lot more beautiful than I ever could have imagined in that moment. I would have told myself not to be distracted by the balloons, or to feel like the last four years had somehow made me superior to anyone or anything. I would have told myself not to listen to the speeches – because those were written to make me laugh and to “inspire” me to succeed in a fairy tale world that would be waiting for me with arms wide open post graduation. Life is so much smaller! Life is so much bigger!

I would tell myself that I would never be able to subsist solely off the inspiration of others, and that I sure as hell can’t depend upon it when choosing my path in life. I would say, “Learn to inspire yourself. To light a candle within that no one else can ever blow out.” Because that is what is going to make you ‘successful’ – that is what is going to make you happy. The world around you will always be a roller coaster of missed opportunities and sunny day chances. You will always have goals that are father than you think you’ll ever be able to reach. There will always be seemingly “lost” causes and impossible hurdles to jump – but learn to inspire yourself and you will always have the strength to clear them.

Kid Friendly Recipes Worth Keeping

Published on May 17, 2015May 15, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

If you’re an au pair like me, or even a mom or dad who just wants to get your kids to actually eat a meal, you know that feeding kids can be tricky. Eating healthy while eating yummy aren’t always two peas in a pod, but over the past year I’ve picked up some recipes which have proven to be fail proof with my kids.
I’m not gonna lie, this year has been especially challenging for me because I’m feeding an age range of 5 to 21 years old, so the taste buds are anything but similar. But regardless of how difficult, each night I have four ravenous boys pacing my kitchen for food. What’s a girl to do!?

At this point I can honestly say I don’t know what I would have done this year without Pintrest. It has been such a help when I’ve had no idea what to do, or what to feed this family. Because let’s be honest, it’s not only important to find food that tastes good and makes everyone happy. We need meals that also work with the very real issue of time constraints!
All of these recipes I’ve found I can make into a dinner in 30 – 45 minutes (total – cooking + prep time) – because let’s face it, no nanny has 3 hours to dedicate to feeding her children. Sound familiar? Here are my top 5 go-to recipes for kids (just in case you find yourself swamped with salivating children).

Whoever was the first person to come up with the idea of fajitas (or their cousins burritos/tacos) deserves a nobel peace prize. Not only do my kids love to eat food they can use their hands with, but they also like the independence of being able to put whatever they like on their plate, wrapping it up in a tortilla and calling it good. I really like being able to find recipes for copying store-bought items, so this recipe has been great for seasoning chicken, turkey and hamburger to wrap our little tortilla blankets around. CLICK HERE for the recipe! Note: I usually throw in some canned diced tomatoes with the seasoning, to help with flavor/consistency.

Everyone has their favorite pancake recipes, and I don’t want to add to the clutter of the internet, but this recipe makes simple honest to goodness buttermilk pancakes which are easily matched up with some eggs and bacon to make the perfect meal of breakfast as a stand in for dinner. This is a great meal to have when you don’t know what to make, can’t make it to the store, need something your kids love and want to use things already in your house. In my book (and my kids minds) it’s always a win. NOTE: This recipe is liquid heavy, so make sure you only add in enough of the liquid ingredients to moisten the dry ingredients to a silky texture – no one likes watery pancakes. CLICK HERE for the recipe!

I actually made this with regular (boil to prepare) ravioli and my boys loved it. Again, it’s bringing together really basic items (ravioli, pasta sauce, meat and cheese) and making something wholesome that kids love. The prep time wasn’t much, but it does take a bit of time to cook, so make sure that you have some chopped veggies for your littles (or bigs) to munch on while it’s cooking, if you get a late start! CLICK HERE for the recipe!

Okay, so this one isn’t really a meal, so much as just a life saver. Sometimes slapping a piece of cooked meat and some vegetables on a plate isn’t quite enough to fill the stomachs of your hungry children, and this is one of the easiest filler items you will ever find (not to mention, super fun for kids to help with). Add in a plate of these bad boys and you’re on a smooth path to baking your way into your children’s hearts. Just don’t expect leftovers – these things fly off the plate. CLICK HERE for the recipe!

Warning: Once you cook this recipe your kids probably won’t stop asking for it. I’m not a crazy creative cook, but I do love to put food in front of my kids that is filling, wholesome and leaves them with smiles on their faces. This recipe does it all. Not only will it make your house smell mouthwatering, but while the chicken is cooking (with only a 10 min prep time! Hallelujah!) you can be putting together a salad, mashing some potatoes or making some buttermilk biscuits ( *wink *wink). By the time the chicken is done, you’ll be in good shape to have everything for dinner ready to go! CLICK HERE for the recipe!

What are your favorite recipes for kids? Let’s share!!

Luck Of The Irish

Published on March 17, 2015March 17, 2015 by Emilee3 Comments

I absolutely love Saint Patrick’s Day because it’s a day when I get to celebrate my family’s heritage and one of my favorite places on earth – Ireland! My family traditions are no joke when it comes to Saint Paddy’s Day, right down to the green breakfast and the corned beef dinner. So, it’s been pretty interesting to be in a country where there is the exact opposite of celebration happening in most places.

It has been an absolute impossible task to explain to my au pair family the significance of this day. In fact, my nine year old informed me that since it’s not a French holiday, it isn’t a real holiday at all.

But, after 7 months, I’m used to the realization that the general French population doesn’t accept things that seem normal or even second nature to me. I still celebrate, anyway. And yes that means giving my kids green baths, baking green cookies and listening to Celtic music. The celebration must go on!

And being in an expat state of mind, today, also reminded me of something else I love celebrating: identity. What makes us who we are? As someone who comes from a biracial background my own identity has been quite the journey to come to terms with, mostly because, growing up, I never felt like I was entitled to it.

But through the years, I’ve slowly begun to unravel the tangled ball of self-identity that we all have to face, in one way or another, at some point. We all are faced with the questions of who we are, and who we want to be.

When I first moved to France I had a really hard time adjusting to the craziness of suddenly having absolutely nothing to define me. I no longer had my friends, my job, my apartment, my family…in short I had nothing. I didn’t even have a phone.

Actually, I still don’t have a phone.

I stood in this foreign country knowing 50% of the language, having no idea what was surrounding me, and wondering what I was thinking when I stepped on the plane that brought me there. I was so scared. I cried so much. I wanted to go back home more than anything in the world, not because I was homesick, but because I was felt so hopelessly lost.

Who was I?

Right about this time, I had a friend who sent me a message that just meant so much to me, and I don’t think they probably even know. It reminded me that I had people back home who loved me, people who supported me and who cared about me. And as simple as that seemed at the moment; those words have circulated in my mind for the past 7 months, again and again.

I have people who love me.

If there has been one theme from this year it has been the love and support of the people back home. I’ve said it before, but I just have no idea how I got so lucky. Maybe it was my Irish blood (Just kidding. Every Morehouse knows our Irish blood is cursed with bad luck).

When I moved to France it was because I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I felt like I needed to “do something with my life” in order for me to figure out if it was worth anything. In short, I felt like I needed to prove myself.

And I intended to – prove myself, that is. I fully intended on this year being the best year of my life. Of everything going beautifully and me then having triumphant tales to spread far and wide for all to hear.

Then the first blow came. And the second. And the third, and fourth and fifth and sixteenth.

And all I could think was “Wait!! This isn’t how this was supposed to be!”

And maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.

I don’t have a crystal ball showing me what direction my life is going in or why things happen. But I do know that when these things happened to me, they pushed me closer to myself than I’ve ever been before. Why? Because when everything else is stripped away, when you have nothing left and you’re just sitting there, you realize what actually matters in the grander scheme of things. And here’s a hint: It’s not a smartphone.

Over the past months I’ve realized just how much my identity is reflected through the hearts of the people who love me, and love well. The people who have laughed, and cried and sent me words of encouragement, even though it was in no way convenient for them to do so. They gain nothing by being the best friends a girl could ask for. But I guess that’s the truest test of love when it comes down to it – selflessness.

Who am I? I have no idea. But I know that each day I feel like I’m getting to know myself a little better. And maybe I’ll never reach that point of really knowing. Maybe I’ll forever be searching out this person who can be defined by a label or a category.

But, for now, I am just me: a writer, artist, geek, class clown, adventurer, leader, fashionista, sporadic, camera obsessed, storyteller traveler who thinks of impossible things and jumps at the chance to take on new experiences. It’s not a perfect identity, and it sometimes feels like I’m being pulled in fifteen different directions, but I am me. I am both a dreamer and a doer, an academic and an artist. I sketch pictures of superheroes and modern fashion trends. I live in the present, but I’m in love with the past. I’m a reader and a writer. I am of Africa and I am of Ireland.

But most of all, I am loved.
More than I ever knew before. More than I ever could have imagined.
And that, is the greatest part of my identity that I ever could have discovered.

(Also, I’m going back to Ireland in a month!! I’m so excited!)

Screen Shot 2015-03-18 at 1.13.27 AM — A giant thank you to my darling friend, Liz for mailing me my favorite Girl Scout cookies. I am one happy expat.

Day in Paris: Catacombs, Hemingway and Luxembourg Gardens

Published on March 17, 2015March 17, 2015 by Emilee1 Comment

This past weekend was so filled with goodness that it’s hard for me to even put together a blog post, but here are some of the highlights! Saturday was such a whirlwind of awesome. We started off visiting The Catacombs, which I’ve decided is one of the creepiest tourist attractions I’ve ever experienced.
Why waiting for an hour to see the skulls and bones of dead people is a thing, I may never know, but it’s one of those experiences that you’ll never forget (and can always brag about – which is a win! 😉 ) The experience itself consists of walking down down down into the depths of the earth and then coming out on piles and piles of bones, murky lighting and extremely humid recycled air. I wouldn’t suggest this attraction for anyone who experiences fear of being underground or claustrophobia. The key, though, is to not think about how far you are underground…or the fact that you’re walking through a tomb of millions of dead people.

After the Catacombs we jumped over to the Luxembourg gardens (after devouring some crepes, which are pretty much my Paris addiction) and hung out there a while. The steps up and down into the pit of The Catacombs was definitely a workout, so it was nice to sit down for a bit. The only danger of three American girls in the gardens, though, is French guys thinking the “nice American girls” are the perfect target for potential kisses and practical jokes. ” But we took it in stride. Maybe American girls are just really nice.

Our next stop was the home of Ernest Hemingway, and I would be lying if I said it was anyone’s “fault” other than mine that we went there. Hemingway is kind of a literary crush of mine (the geek in me is showing) so being able to stand outside his old apartment, in the neighborhood he called home was pretty incredible. There was even a cafe underneath the apartment which he wrote about in his book A Moveable Feast! Definitely worth the extra trek over there from the gardens.

Overall the day was just jam packed with fun and awesome memories. I’m so excited for the days to start getting warmer as spring arrives in Paris. We’ve all been a little cooped up over the winter months since it has been absolutely frigid, but now we can go out and see more of the city! More adventures to come!

We almost went to jail for taking this photo with a flash. But we needed proof of our adventure. (that wasn’t dark and murky)

As we were walking through we just kept saying “Whose idea was this?” …it was mine. Oops.

We were walking so far down under Paris. Not saying I was a little bit scared, but I’m not saying that I wasn’t.

Happy Saint Patricks Day!

Published on March 17, 2015March 17, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

No, it’s not a holiday in France. But I come from a strong and proud Irish family, so not celebrating was not an option. And of course we had green cookies and lots of fun! So much sugar. These kids probably won’t sleep for a week.

HAPPY SAINT PATRICKS DAY!!!