Wasting my time

My time in France is more than halfway over, and I have to wonder if I've wasted it. Wasted it speaking English with my API friends- that is. 

Never have I felt more American than when I am abroad.  It seems like my whole group is clinging to our mother tongue with the grip of thousand fists. I’d compare it to a mild form of diaspora: where we simply must communicate, for the sake of losing our language. Or some pathetic excuse like that…

Okay, okay enough bollocks… it’s JUST EASIER. OKAY- I know I didn’t come halfway across the world to speak English 90% of my day. I know I can’t learn anything if I don’t ‘put myself out there’. I know that this experience is what I make it. Wait-before I get to riled up- I have to remember the small victories…

I look at the sizable chunk in my journal that once seemed so intimidating for me to fill in one summer. It is now is jam-packed with chicken-scratch anecdotes that try to cram each lovely day into a single page.

I look at my watch reading 9:45 AM. Class started well over an hour ago. Old Arielle would be ripping her hair out and pacing the floor with each passing thought of the consequences. New Arielle reasons with herself to say “You are socially exhausted. You need ‘me time’".I conquer self-care and rejuvenation. Not out of diversion, but necessity.

I look at my body- bronze shoulders and new freckles show me that I have spent every single day exposing myself to the great outdoors. Whether it’s a quick morning in the Les Hales market or a weekend spent sunbathing perched on top of Mont Blanc, I was OUT living life. To put this into context, I spend most of my summers escaping the god-forsaken Texas heat by watching Netflix from the hours of 12am-7pm. This is a gargantuan difference that’s sure to leave an impression on my reclusive ways.

I look at my sketchbook. The blank pages are now occupied by scratchy doodles characteristic of a Wes Anderson storyboard (flattering myself, I know). This is a great accomplishment for me since I haven’t picked up a pen to draw anything more than a dress in 3 years. The new sense of liberality I feel here is leaking into all outlets.   

I may not have the facility with the French language that I expected at the beginning of this trip but I’ve got new friends, newfound confidence, and more adept sense of self to prove that this experience is absolutely not a waste of time.