The Paris That Raised Me
How a Summer at Fifteen Sparked a Lifetime of Wonder and Wander
I was fifteen the first time I went to Paris. A wide-eyed kid with a suitcase heavier than my life experience, stepping into a city I barely understood but felt pulled toward from the moment the plane touched down. I was never the child who researched or plotted. I was the one who moved through the world by instinct, a sort of ‘fly-by-the-seat-of-my pants’ kind of girl, following a quiet internal ping that somehow steered me toward the right places.
Somewhere between my mid-thirties and mid-fifties, that instinct faded under the weight of raising kids, building a career, and caring about everyone else’s ping more than my own. But Paris has a way of waking it back up. The minute I return, something inside me lifts its head, as if it is remembering itself.
My first trip was an exchange summer, the kind that leaves a permanent mark. We visited a few famous sites, but what shaped me was the immersion. That French family became my classroom, my cultural initiation, and in some ways, the beginning of who I would become. I learned that mornings in Paris move slowly, on purpose. Breakfast meant a warm croissant, a bowl of café au lait, and the quiet before the day gathered speed. Lunch was never rushed. Conversation had weight. Shops sold one thing and sold it well. Beauty lived in the margins.
A French boyfriend topped the list of discoveries that summer, of course. His name was Frederic, and he introduced me to a Paris that was nowhere near the postcards. We would drink cheap wine by the Seine and smoke cigarettes like we were philosophers in training. His friends would show up in a loose circle of laughter and stories, and I was convinced we were the coolest group in the entire city. I probably did wear a black turtleneck at some point, leaning into the fantasy, reciting borrowed poetry I barely understood. One night we wandered into Shakespeare and Company, where the tumbleweeds let us stay far too long, and I walked out feeling like a writer even though someone had stolen my Walkman about an hour earlier. Paris did not care. The city kept pulling me forward with its sights and sounds and small sensory jolts that made even the ordinary feel extraordinary. Those moments wrapped themselves into rituals, and those rituals became the beginning of my love story with the city.
I still return for those quiet comforts. For the beauty. For the idea that you can fill your days with discovery and still feel like you have time to breathe. But mostly, I return for the learning. Paris is a living book and the streets are chapters. You read one, and immediately want the next. Creativity spills into everything. I toggle between awe and envy from morning to night.
Overwhelm comes with the territory. The more I know, the more I feel the urge not to waste a moment, even while craving enough space to simply notice. That tension is what turned Paris research and storytelling into a passion and, eventually, a profession. I want people to have the kind of Paris experiences that stay with them. Moments and meals and memories that make you feel like you were not just in Paris, but somehow part of it.
I have worn many Paris hats over the years. Student. Guide. Designer. Writer. Tourist. Each one gave me a different version of the city. When I stay long enough, I begin to see layers of myself reflected back, depending on the street I am standing on.
Paris is a challenge too. The language keeps me humble. Even after years of study, it never rolls out of my mouth quite the way I want. But maybe that is part of the fun. You never quite conquer Paris. You meet it, again and again, from a different angle.
It inspires everyone. Writers, artists, entrepreneurs, chefs, dreamers. The city pulls from its Roman bones and pushes toward the avant-garde in the same breath. It does not matter what field you are in. Paris expands it.
That is why I created the Paris Insider Collection. It grew out of all those summers, all those roles, all the wandering and learning. It is designed to take the pressure off planning so Paris can feel as alive for you as it does for me. Curated guides, beautiful itineraries, and the quiet confidence that comes from knowing you will not miss the moments that matter. You can explore freely and still leave with the stories, the surprises, and the sense of wonder you came for.
Paris Insider Collection
Paris raised me in ways I did not understand at fifteen. And every time I go back, it teaches me something new. I think that is why so many of us return, over and over again. Not just to see the city, but to see what new part of ourselves wakes up in it.
