I said it, and I meant it: Moving to Paris, France

a long read on the why behind the what.

If there is one question that I am consistently asked, it’s “where are you?”. I never told anyone when I moved from California to Colorado, or when I moved from Colorado to Utah. Reading this, you probably think I am still in Salt Lake City, no- I’m in Atlanta. It was the longest I have lived in one place since I was in High School, and I am on the move again, evading the pressure to settle down.

I’ve been gradually breaking the news to my friends and family that my beloved dog, Rocky, and I are moving to Paris, and no one is that surprised, which makes me think I am not as mysterious as I thought I was. I am met with excitement and the question of why, and I feel like after some thought, I’ve come up with a few answers depending on who I am speaking to:

1. Why not? I am only turning 27, my responsibilities consist of myself, my dog, and my LLC. I also am the youngest child, if anyone were to do it, it would be me. I imagine myself one day in 20 years, married with kids and a mortgage, laying in bed thinking about what it would have been like had I taken the chance in my 20’s to live abroad. I like my sleep and I don’t want that to keep me up at night, so there’s really only one solution here.

2. It’s written in my bones. I recently went through all of my adoption papers with my brother, each translated from French to English, and it made a little bit more sense in a weird ignore the Haitian Revolution way. I have always had a fascination with France and other francophone countries, and when you’re adopted, you don’t ask questions about what makes you feel connected to the parts of yourself that are unfamiliar.

3. Buried dreams are always worth digging up. I can’t tell you how many moments in my life have pointed to this decision. Everything from random Facebook status posts that pop up from 13 years ago talking about how “Europe was meant for me” (yes, embarrassing), the books and movies I would watch on repeat as a little kid like The Aristocats and Beauty and The Beast, my cold email I sent requesting to intern at a crèche over the summer in Paris when I was 15, (I did not get a response..) to #13 on my 30 by 30 list that I wrote on my 18th birthday. They all seemingly lead back to this unreasonable, impractical, relentless dream of mine. I look back and think about how proud little Olivia would be that she’s making it a reality, no matter how crazy it may seem.

The only real photo we have together

How did this even happen? I’m blaming it on Michael. He’s been my international travel buddy since 2011 and is my dearest friend. I thought about adding photos of us when we were kids but that would be pure blackmail. ;) He has this special skill where he coaxes the things meant for me that I hide from and then gives a double dose of courage to take the next step. Towards the end of July, I got this text from him who was on his multi-country European adventure to meet him in Paris the next month. Surprisingly enough, my pragmatic, type-A, “I need 3 months notice” self said yes.

THE text.

I arrived and met Michael at the airport and we got a taxi to MOBHOUSE in Saint-Ouen, about a 20 minute train ride north of the city center. The moment you step outside of the tourist areas, you won’t meet many people who speak English, and I loved it. I tried my best to talk to people in French, and would stare at them for a good 5 seconds trying to comprehend what they said when they replied. I have never felt at home because of a place, it’s always been because of the people. That night, walking the streets from the train to the hotel I had this strange feeling that I would one day call these streets home. In that moment, I asked god for a sign if I was on the right track.

One of the afternoons that Michael and I were in Paris, he had mentioned his friend Maxine from LA was visiting her friend, Mary, who recently moved there. The four of us went to a tapas spot in the city and I talked Mary’s ear off about her experience moving. She is an extraordinarily talented hair and makeup artist who has the most diverse skills. When I say diverse, I mean this cute white woman can slay an afro and carries around my shade of foundation for her clients. Very few people in the fashion industry have that ability which makes her even more of an asset. I explained that I would love to move here but that I have a dog, so it would be difficult to relocate her. Well guess who moved there with her dog? Mary. She proceeded to give me every resource I could need, from visa types to furnished apartments, a vet for Rocky, the required paperwork I need to provide, even a dog sitter for when I get there! She ended our conversation with a word of encouragement, “just know whatever you decide, you’ve got a friend here.”

Now if that isn’t a sign, I’m not sure what is, my entire move was laid out before me. I left our late-afternoon lunch thankful, encouraged, and like this could really be my reality.

On our flight from Paris to the Spanish Island Menorca, Michael and I were listening to music synced on our AirPods and the song “Seasons” by Madison Ryann Ward came on. The lyrics hit me like a ton of bricks:

“There's a time and place for everything
It's always a surprise
You can make your plans
And call your shots
And draw the safety lines

But in the end
Best you can do
Is hold on tight
While the wind blows through
And trust the God who loves you
Has got you in His hands”

I took one look at Michael and started ugly crying in the middle of the flight aboard Transavia Airlines (iykyk). He grabbed me and said out loud what I was thinking …“you have to do it”. I have always lived my life perfectly planned, with all of my t’s crossed and my i’s dotted. My choice to go on this trip alone was a shock to people because it wasn’t “part of the plan”. I am comfortable within my safety lines but as I get older, I am realizing that a beautiful and fulfilling life is never lived within the confines of your comfort zone.

We got to our hotel on the island and I called my mom and told her that I was going to take the steps to move abroad. Last she knew was that I was ready to move from Utah and was considering coming back to Atlanta, but I felt as if my plans were going to be derailed. My parents responded with zero surprise- in fact, my mom said that this is just the life she imagined me living. I don’t need the approval of anyone, but I value what my family has to say. Getting a stamp of approval from them was the last bit of confirmation I needed to feel peace about my move. With that settled, I put a pin in it and actually relaxed for the first time in what felt like years and enjoyed the rest of my vacation. 

A little bit of France, a little bit of Spain

Once I got home I hit the ground running planning my move. The first step was looking at my visa options:

I could go back to school - no. 

I could be the oldest au-pair in France - no. 

I could apply for a million jobs - no. 

I could bring my business to France - yes. 

As a refresh, I make money by doing a lot of things in the digital world. Mainly through marketing consulting, content creation and my own social channels. I am proud of the career that I have built for myself, and the flexibility and control I have over my life due to it is invaluable. I knew I didn’t want to sacrifice that, and I had the financial means to support myself, so decided to apply for the rare profession libérale / entrepreneurship visa. When have I ever gone the easy route with anything in life? After about 2 hours of research, Google let me know I needed an expert to help me. So I hired Ann at EasyStart to advise me in this process and it was the best money I have ever spent.

Over the last couple of months, I have been gathering all the information that I needed for my visa appointment, in order to properly apply for this visa. These were the documents required,  all needing to be translated to French:

1. Official copy of criminal records

2. Updated passport photos + passport

3. Birth certificate

4. Business plan + executive summary (mine ended up being 28 pages)

5. Financial projections + profit and loss statement

6. CV + Testimonials from past and current clients

7. Personal and professional motivational letters

8. Business bank statements from the past 3 months

9. Personal savings statements from the past 3 months

10. Portfolio showing proof of work

11. Proof of purchased airfare

12. Proof of housing

13. DREETS application - to ensure I am abiding by French labor laws

14. Travel insurance (until I am registered in the French healthcare system)

I already have experienced a small glimpse of the ancient bureaucratic system that is France. Example: how one is supposed to obtain an apartment without a visa, yet can’t apply for said visa without proof of housing. This is just a taste of the back and forth I will be navigating over the coming months as I become a tax-paying, bank-account-holding resident in France. Thankfully, I was able to find the cutest sublet in the 9th Arrondissement for the first few months until I decide where I want to be more permanently. It all came together in perfect timing.

A sneak peek of my home for a few months.

I walked into my visa appointment with nearly 100 pages in my little folder, and because most requests are for short and long-stay visas, the VFS agent needed a little education. I left the appointment 100 pages lighter and very relieved that the process was finished. I was told by Ann that I have a very strong application and that I should hear back within 2-3 weeks.

I can assure you, if I didn’t believe with every fiber of my being that this was the next best step for my life, I would have given up 5 seconds after I thought about it. Moving to another country is not for the faint of heart. I have spent many nights staying up until 2am learning how to provide accurate business financial projections, define my competitive advantages, and explain my market size and segments. I’ve spent hours looking for places to stay, taking French classes, selling everything I owned, all while still working 40+ hours per week and trying to enjoy the last few months with my friends and family in Salt Lake.

This entire process has boosted my confidence unlike anything else could. Confidence is built by making promises to yourself and keeping them - and seeing all of this come to fruition has proved to me that I can trust myself- that I can do things that are daunting and can steer my own ship. Sure, this path is not stress-averse. I have cried more tears than I’d like to admit, and had a few hefty panic attacks, but it is worth it all when I look at myself in the mirror at the end of a long day and say “you did it”.

My sweet family in Georgia

My flight is booked for February 15th, and as I live life in the in-between, I am soaking up every last moment with my family…. and sometimes they make me forget I am waiting for anything. After being so future focused, it’s nice to remember that life happens in the present. My hope for this Substack is that I can share a more intimate view of my experience for those that know me and that I know. So many of you have been incredibly helpful with all the logistics and have been integral in my move, from my clients who have written glowing reviews for me, to my friends in Paris, (some of which I have never even met!) to my family who chooses to be excited for me even though it means we will soon be an ocean apart. Next update you’ll hear is me with boots on the ground in Paris. 

If you read this far: I love you, and thank you for reading.