Dear Paris,

I don’t know when my obsession started with you. Maybe it was when I had to chose between French and Spanish in the fifth grade. I chose French, and everyone said, “Spanish is a lot more useful.” To which I retorted, “French is still cool though.”

Boy, was my fifth grade self right. I learned that French isn’t just spoken in France, but in Africa, Polynesia, and many other countries. I learned about those cultures, the beauty of all the parts of France, and, of course, the stereotypical city that everyone knows: Paris. Maybe it was the fact that in America, Paris is stereotyped to be pink, poodles, and the epitome of everything girly. Once you hit your teenage years, it is marketed as this great city full of adventure for all those girls who are so #wanderlust. The repetition of the iconic Eiffel Tower over notebooks, journals, purses, wallpaper, key chains, you name it; if a tween to teen girl could get her hands on it, more than likely the landmark was on it.

Finally, three years ago, my mom decided I was finally old enough after years of begging to do a 10 day trip abroad with my high school French class. I counted down the days from the moment she decided, which was something ridiculous like 370 plus days. I got a passport, I packed my bags, and I remember anxiously waiting at the airport with our tour group, which included one of my best friends, to embark on this journey to France and Italy. Our first stop was the city my fifth grade self had always wanted to visit. None other than Paris, France.

I couldn’t sleep on the plane. I was wired. Would it be everything I expected? My friend who was traveling with me quickly fell asleep, and although her excitement was shared, it was not nearly the level of mine. Once we arrived, we took a bus from Charles De Gaulle into the city, and even though we were mostly looking at fields, I kept saying to her, “isn’t this exciting?” She always replied “yes” to everything I was excited about on this trip (which is something I will always be thankful for; love you, Julia).

Upon pulling into the city, I couldn’t stop looking everywhere. It was exactly like the pictures, exactly like I had dreamed. The Metro signs scattered on every corner; pâtisserie, boulangerie, pharmacie signs on every block. People walking around everywhere. Besides New York and Chicago, it was the biggest city I had ever been in. Our hotel was down the street from L’Arc de Triomphe. We ate in local restaurants, and the European-style breakfast that was provided for us the next day was delicious.

We saw the Eiffel Tower that day. Approaching it, the Eiffel Tower I had seen on the stationary, decorated in pink and flowers, seemed like a fantasy. This structure was overwhelming. We sat on the fields surrounding it, eating lunch and chatting happily with each other. Everything seemed so vivid, so alive. There was a flow in this city; somehow, we were caught right in the middle of it, and seeing the (arguably) most iconic landmark was just the beginning.

I soon discovered I had a calling toward the potentially “unconventional” side of the city, and I found that in Montmartre. Located in the 18th arrondissement (neighborhood, basically), it was the “artsy” side of the city. Like a jewel on top of the hill, Sacré Cœur sat at the peak, glowing bright in its Neo-Byzantine style. The architecture caught my eye, just as much as the graffiti sprawled across the steps leading up to the neighborhood did. You could see everything from atop the hill; the large, mighty Eiffel Tower looked like a keychain. It really put everything in perspective; I was here, I was living something I had dreamed of for so long.

But we left the next day. Don’t get me wrong, I suddenly became enamored with everything else I experienced and saw on the trip, and this trip was just the beginning of my future travels around the world. But Paris stole my heart from the moment I stepped off that plane, and I hadn’t even seen it yet. When I think of where I want to go, Paris is always the first on the list. The city has this magical way of seeming so hectic, but so calm at the same time. I want to explore more, I want to talk to the locals, I want to immerse myself in the city. It’s almost hard to put into words what Paris makes me feel, so let me try to summarize it the best I can:

Paris makes me feel like I can experience everything I could ever want and more.

Xoxoxo,

Someone returning soon