I moved to France in September 2006. Prior to that, I had a great job in a field that I loved. I was twenty-six years old, had my Bachelor’s and was living on my own. My career was practically traced out and I was (on paper) doing quite well for myself. But I chucked it all. Why?

When I was seven years old, I took a French class for the first time. Prior to that, my mother had had a Spanish tutor for me for a couple of years, but all that really stuck was how to say 1 through 10 and a couple of colors. But French fascinated me. I don’t know if it was the subject itself, or that I had a fantastic teacher. Whatever it was, I was hooked. I wanted to be French. And in spite of only being able to study the language on and off through the years, I didn’t shut up about my dream of going to France until I was twenty-one (in 2001) and had the chance to study abroad for six weeks. It was simultaneously a wonderful and terrible experience…

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Posted by:Gia