Expats often get a reputation for having a pretty cushy gig.  And for the most part, I can’t disagree.  My life has had a lot of ‘ups’ over the past several years.  But it didn’t get that way without a few bumps and bruises on my ego, and bit of heartache along the way.

The life I’m living now is almost unrecognizable from the one I left in Canada, my home country, 5 years ago.

I was a newly married, working professional who arrived in Paris with my husband, thinking I could speak decent French, and quickly realizing how very wrong I was.

It didn’t take long before I knew my tourist French wasn’t going to cut it.  Once I was done sightseeing in my new city, I had to start making a life there.  That’s when I found out there’s a big difference between visiting a country on vacation and actually living there.

When the holiday magic wears off, expats don’t get to leave.  When the luster starts to fade, we don’t get to repack our bags and say goodbye to concierge at the hotel.  We’re in it for the long haul.  That’s when it’s time for us to start planting roots.  The hard work begins and your ego might get bruised a bit while you find your way, learn a language, and make some friends.

My roots became firmly planted in French soil when my first daughter was born here, and they grew even deeper with the arrival of daughter #2.  France is the only home my kids know.  French is their first language.  And for those reasons alone, this place where I live, that was once so foreign to me, in some ways now feels more like home than the one I left.

Becoming a parent opens a chapter of your life that completely changes who you were before.  For me, that chapter was written in French.  It’s the only story I know.  We do things ‘the French way’ with our kids because that is what’s been around us since the beginning.  From buying a pregnancy test to sending my child to school, and everything in between.  These are things that I’ve never even thought about in my ‘old life’ yet I’ve lived it in France.

And so the roots have been planted.  Our family tree began growing on French soil.

Contrary to popular belief, being an expat isn’t always easy.  It’s a lifestyle we choose, and we take the good with the bad.  Sometimes what you consider good at one point of your journey can be bad a few years later.  I remember early on when I was unsettled in France, secretly looking forward to the finish line, when we’d leave this country whose language I could not speak.

Five years later, that wish I once had finally came true.  We got the call to move.  But I’m no longer the same woman who wished it.  I’m now bilingual.  I know how to use the stick-shift in our manual car, and I can whip through roundabouts like it’s nobody’s business.  We have friends in our neighbourhood who don’t speak English, and my daughter’s favourite part of the day is eating lamb for lunch in the canteen at her little village school.  It’s no longer annoying that none of the restaurants open for dinner until 7:30pm; that’s just the way it is.  All the things that were once ‘different’ about France have become our normal.

So how do we leave?  This is the part that’s hard.  This is the part that will make us stronger as a family.  We’re onto a new adventure and although there are many things we will miss, we will always have roots in France.  This is where my babies were born.  This is where our family started.

We’re trading cobblestone for sand and baguettes for rice, as we pack our bags for Indonesia.

Our next adventure will be a big one; with many miles between us and home.  But we approach it with open minds and positive attitudes.  Because if you’re going to survive this crazy ride of expat life those are the two most important things you need.  Plus a passport.  Where there’s an expat family, there’s always a pile of passports that aren’t too far away.