What I found in France that I didn’t know I was missing

When I first boarded that plane to France, I thought I had a pretty good handle on what I’d gain by moving there. Better pastries? Sure. The challenge of a new language? Definitely. A fun, new life with my husband? Heck yes. Weekend trips to quaint villages? Check, done!

But what I didn’t anticipate — what no guidebook or travel blog could have prepared me for — were the subtle, almost invisible things I’d encounter. The ones that creep up on you slowly, then lodge themselves firmly into your daily life until you can’t imagine living without them.

1. The pace of life

I didn’t realize how much of my life in the U.S. was ruled by urgency. Even the “fun” parts — dinners with friends, hobbies, vacations — were wedged between deadlines, commutes, and the next thing on my calendar. I thought that was what adulting was about and I wanted to make the most of my big city life.

A lot of that was because I was living in NYC in my 20s and had a corporate job with set hours. I had to be certain places at certain times and I never felt like I was in complete control of my time. I’d dread Sunday nights (and that dread would even creep into the afternoons) because I knew I’d have to be up early for work on Monday.

I even remember booking a two-week vacation with my PTO and almost got fired because I didn’t clear it with my boss ahead of time (despite having banked more than enough days).

In France, I live in a small town and work for myself. I’m in control of my time. This shift was 100% deliberate. I traded in city life for suburban life. I no longer need the go-go-go excitement of my 20s.

Let me point out, though, that living in France isn’t going to inherently slow everyone’s life down in the same way just because it’s France. A high powered lawyer in NYC and Paris will still have a lot of the same stressors and long hours.

But if you completely change your life, well, your whole life is going to change.

In France, I learned what it’s like for time to expand. Lunch isn’t something to do on the go or at your desk while you’re multitasking. It’s a break you take, fully and without guilt (with dessert, of course).

Sundays are for rest, not errands. I didn’t know I was missing the space to breathe until I had it.

Another thing about slowing down is that it doesn’t just change your schedule. It changes your nervous system and it’s for the best. If you’re a HSP, this is MAJOR.

2. Space for small rituals

In my American life, coffee was a functional thing — caffeine started my day. I either made it at home and took it with me in a travel thermos or got it at work. It was an accessory to whatever the main event was.

But in France, coffee is more of the event in and of itself and an excuse to take a break, even if it’s just five minutes at the kitchen table or a chat with coworkers in the break room. And let’s not forget about a petit café at an actual café in a ceramic tasse where you take time to sit and enjoy it.

The French seem to understand that small rituals anchor us and are important on their own. A fresh baguette is routine for many of us and waiting in line is part of the process, even if it’s tedious at times. The predictable rhythm of the farmers’ market, and that same older man with his dog you pass every morning on your walk who gives you a nod, all the little things you notice now.

These little things aren’t overly involved or even that special in and of themselves, but they create a routine and a sense of home. 

3. Being comfortable with silence

Americans are master conversationalists, but there’s often a need to fill every pause with chatter. In France, I’ve experienced meals, walks, even entire afternoons where silence isn’t awkward. It’s just… there.

This comfort with quiet moments gave me permission to stop performing. I didn’t know I was missing that space to simply be without narrating it or filling it. Maybe it comes with maturity and my own self-awareness, but the fact that it happened in France was worth a mention.

4. Permission to be “enough” exactly as I am

Life in France has subtly challenged the constant self-improvement mindset I grew up with — the idea that I should always be striving, producing, doing. Don’t get me wrong, there are always things to improve upon but it’s more of a long-term goal and not a do-all-the-things-now kind of goal.

Here, I see people content to spend a whole afternoon reading in the park or chatting with a neighbor without the compulsion to turn it into a productive activity. That quiet contentment — the ability to be enough without earning it first — was something I didn’t know I needed.

And yeah, the French have this time to just “be” because they aren’t working themselves to the bone for fear of losing their job and health insurance with it. Everyone has a work contract here.

5. A broader definition of success

Before moving abroad, my metrics for success were mostly external: career progression, income, milestones. That’s what I saw around me… how many of you reading this had a 5-yr plan? A lot of my friends did. They had an age to get married, have kids, buy a house, etc.

In France, I’ve met people whose lives revolve around family dinners, community involvement, or personal passions — and they don’t apologize for prioritizing those things over a bigger paycheck or longer work hours. People work to live, not the other way around.

It made me realize my own definition of success was narrower than I thought. Expanding it has made my life feel fuller yet lighter.

6. The beauty of feeling like an outsider

No one really wants to feel like an outsider — it’s uncomfortable. But living in France has shown me that being outside the cultural center I grew up with forces me to see the world with fresh eyes.

You notice details locals don’t. You develop empathy for others navigating unfamiliar terrain. You get comfortable with the fact that you’ll never fully “arrive,” and that’s OK.

This perspective — the humility and openness that comes from not being at the center of your own universe — was something I didn’t realize I’d been missing in my old life, where everything felt familiar and normal.

And sure, you can take the girl out of NY but you can’t take NY out of the girl…. not 100%…. and I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Bottom line

Moving to France didn’t complete me — that’s not how life works. But it did help me uncover sides of myself that I didn’t even know were buried.

Life in France has given me a slower pace, a purpose, perspective, and a richer understanding of success. It’s given me the humility of an outsider’s view and maybe this is a hot take, but we all need a bit more of that.

Maybe the biggest a-ha moment from it all was realizing that the things I’ve found here — the ones I was missing — weren’t uniquely French. They exist anywhere, if we give ourselves permission to notice them. France just happened to be the place that taught me how.