Paris, part II
Paris
In truth, I am not sure how to begin. I am not sure how to say what it was like to meet Laura after emailing for two years. I am not sure how to describe the very particular pleasure of getting to travel with my mother for ten days, or the thrill of finally getting to see Paris, after my false start two-and-a-half-years ago. So I'll simply begin with some photos, and then go from there.
Happy Mother's Day
Photo by the incredible E. Rhondeau Morgan
Two years ago I wrote about how lucky it was that I didn't see Paris with a particular person because I didn't think him worthy of the experience.
I wrote, Paris will wait.
In two weeks time I will see it with my mother. And honest to God, there isn't a person in the world I'd rather see it with.
A Reminder
Photo by Andrew Ling
Give yourself permission not to be not good at something. To write messy and imperfect words. To kiss the boy in the bar for no reason other than you want to. To let your legs shake during yoga. To take up space and feel totally feminine--whatever that means for you. Stand up straight. Make lists of tangible things for when you need something to hang on to: 1. Wash the sheets. 2. Wipe the counter. 3. Grind the coffee beans. 4. Knead the bread. Quietly and softly carve out a life on your own terms. Stop apologizing. Forgive that sometimes things take a while. Forgive the low-level, near-constant fear. Celebrate the small successes. Perhaps joy is its own body of water, wade out into it.