I know a lot of people who are afraid of change – who cling to the many facets of the world that they know, only to avoid having to enter into unchartered territory. While the majority of people find comfort in living the life that they have built for themselves, I find stability in instability, through living in a state of constant change. From new cities, to new men, to new friends, to new jobs – being thrown into a fresh situation makes my senses come alive and keeps my creativity at its peak level of functionality. I thrive on change. In fact, I may even be addicted to it.
A few months ago, I walked along the Champs-Elysees in Paris for the first time – and while I’ve spent the majority of my life immersed in vibrant cities like New York, I never felt more alive. My trip to France was the first time that I had traveled to another country completely alone. And while at first I was daunted by my fear of the unknown, it turned out to be one of the best trips of my life. After a few weeks of wandering around the city, taking a weak stab at speaking French, mingling with the local shop owners, and tasting the best of Parisian macaroons, I was in love. Even though I had no friends to keep me company and only about ten words of French at my disposal, I couldn’t remember any other time in my life when I was quite as happy. And as I sat in my favorite restaurant overlooking the Champs-Elysees on my last night in Paris, tears started sliding down my face. No man had ever made me feel as vibrant and alive as this city had – and we had only known each other for a matter of weeks. I was completely and utterly enchanted by life in Paris – the people, the smells, the culture, the style. And I knew one thing for certain – I didn’t want to leave. As I dragged myself to the airport to go back to my life of normalcy here in New York, no loss had ever felt so great. But I knew that when I left, it wasn’t goodbye, but rather au revoire.
As I sat in my Park Avenue office after returning from my trip, my focus was nowhere to be seen and my eyes were constantly gazing out the window as I drifted into a daydream that frequently involved me, with a lemon macaroon in hand, clothed in Parisian attire, perusing through the shops on Boulevard Haussmann. When it comes to men, some things are out of my control – but I knew that unlike any man, Paris would never turn its back on me. And that’s why I had every intention of going back, and this time for good. Why couldn’t I drop everything and move to Paris? Nothing had ever made me feel so beautiful or creative or alive in my entire life – and I wanted to feel that way every single day.
As the days marched on and I slowly fell back into my usual routine of gallivanting from charity event to society gala in New York City, the taste of lemon macaroons that lingered on my lips started to fade away. And that’s when I started to wonder if Paris and I were just a spring fling, or if we were really ready to take this affair to the next level. And as I reconnected with the people in my life here in the city, my senses weren’t quite as alive as they were in Paris, but I was able to look at my world here and the people in it with a new set of eyes. Wandering the streets of Paris for the first time made me remember what it felt like as New York and I were first becoming acquainted. And while the flashing lights and roaring sirens inevitably threw me around a bit when we first started to tango, time brought us closer together. And now I can confidently say that nowhere in the world feels more like home.
When you really love a man or a woman, you are wholeheartedly enamored by them. They are the last thing that you think about when you go to sleep at night, and the person you want to share all your secrets with. And it doesn’t take just any model in a bikini or man in a pinstriped suit to shake your focus. So when New York had managed to recapture my affection and light up my eyes in only a matter of days after we became reacquainted, I knew all too well that my love for this city was far deeper than the winks from French men and the exquisite ballet that attempted to steal me away in Paris. I couldn’t leave this city. Because beyond my favorite underground salsa clubs and secret societies, I realized that it’s really the people in our lives who make a place feel like home.
Change is good. Whether it be meeting new people, visiting a place we’ve always dreamed of going, or taking up that hobby that we were too embarrassed to try, having new stimuli in our lives allows our senses to reignite and creates a spark inside of us. But over time, more often than not, that spark will start to fade. And just because something is new or different, it doesn’t mean that it is right. So in the midst of traveling the world, embracing new experiences, and letting new people into my life, I have come to see that sometimes the most courageous decision is not to leave, but to stay – to immerse yourself in a career, to commit to a person, to fall in love with a city. And one day, you might just be standing on your favorite street, with a macaroon in one hand and the love of your life in the other, in a city that couldn’t feel more like home.