Here we go again, ten years after having moved to France alone at the age of 18, I find myself leaving the country I once swore I would die in. I arrived right out of high school in a tiny village, then planted my roots in the closest big city where I stayed until I finally left. The decision to leave France didn’t come easy. When I first started dating my wife, she was living in Switzerland and quickly informed me that she would be leaving the country to move abroad. I almost called our relationship quits because I was so determined to see through the promise I made to myself at 18 to stay in France for forever. She wanted to find warmer weather and more vibrant vibes, and I wanted to pursue the life I had built.

I had just landed my dream job, I was working at the tv station as a co-commenter, I was the ‘little American’ known around town, a homeowner who planted so many roots in this small French town, with a new circle of friends and everything… But living there was also a suffer. 10 years alone in your early twenties happens to take a toll on your mental health, I surrounded myself poorly at certain periods and honestly taking a step back from it all and visiting Switzerland on the weekends really opened my eyes. I realised how unhappy I was holding on to this dream that should have died so long ago. Those first few months of dating, getting to spend my weekends ‘abroad’ felt so relaxing, I slept deeper, I ate more, I was happy and alive and feeling more myself. It was a healing experience, almost as if the Alpes fresh air did a deep clean on my soul and my priorities. I slowly started to realise that the life I was living in France wasn’t for me, that I was suppressed into this version of myself that felt… off somehow. 

But even then, when I put my apartment up for sale, I spent that same night staring at the ceiling, doubting my decision for hours. Was I wrong for calling it quits? Is France really that bad for me? What about everything I have created here? The universe answered that question for me the very next morning.

Seven AM, I am walking down my street with my headphones in, heading towards the train station to get to work. A car follows me and I notice a man talking to me so I remove my headphones and shout ‘What?’. And the insults came pouring in. Believe it or not, this middle aged man wanted me to get in his car, and me responding ‘what’? was enough to shut down his ego and have him verbally assaulting me, following me in his car as I try to get to work. I asked him several times to leave, just go, which then apparently pushed him to literally get out of his car and chase me, verbally saying he was going to hurt me. I was able to run away and hide as he attempted to pursue me on foot and then by car, as I filmed the whole scene with my phone. I hid behind a wall until he gave up and left, and managed to make my way to the train station and get to work. The 45 minute train ride was long, but I avoided eye contact and sulked into my bubble until I made it to work. The second I walked in the doors to my office, I broke down in tears, shaking, as the head of human ressources pulled me into a private space to talk it through. Completely traumatised, she took me to the police station in Lyon to file a complaint against the man. I sat in the officers office for an hour, listening to the video I recored on repeat, of the man assaulting me, shaking like a small dog, only for the officer to kindly inform me that he understood…. it is because I am a seductive woman, that is why I was chased and verbally assaulted. He persuaded me not to file a complaint, and then followed me to the door while trying to slip little compliments and flirts into his sentences. It was disgusting, I was humiliated. Honestly I called it quits on France right then and there. Messaged received, no need to say it louder. I went home early, packed my bags and left the country. I continued to work from home and only return to slowly gather my things, but from that day on, I moved out of France without looking back. It honestly felt like I was being pushed out of the country, or as if the second I questioned if this country was fucked up, more fucked up things happened to me. Thinking back on it still makes me shake. 

Running away from my problems was obviously a temporary solution, as we didn’t plan on living in Switzerland, as my then-girlfriend wished. But it was a temporary band-aid on a problem that I was tired of facing. We managed to live in Switzerland from September-January of 2023, until our 130 day trip across the country, where we planned trips to Portugal, Spain, Brazil and the States. Now that the trip is over, we are back in Switzerland, planning our next step. Where is the warmer weather and the vibrant place we are looking for? We are trying to figure it out. It is a work in progress that we are taking day by day, while still trying to make the most out of the summer. I look forward to giving updates and sharing the path you have to take to get the administrative part in order. All of this involves new immigration procedures, a new language to learn, new barriers to jump and stumble over, but we are doing it and not looking back, so. Look out world. And come with us on this journey. 

All my love.