I Did Not Expect This When I Moved to France

The Friend Bonanza is Real, Plus the Cutest Damn Cake Ever and Other Updates

Coucou les ami(e)s !

Comment s’est passée ta semaine ? (How has your week been?) Thank you for spending a part of your day with me. I’m so happy you’re here. Also, you look great today.

En parlant de (speaking of) great looking things, if you just want to see the most mignon (cute) little French cake ever, scrolllll downnnn. If you want to hear about an experience I wasn’t anticipating as part of relocating to la belle France, keep on reading.

Before we get started, just a special note: this post is dedicated to a group of women, in New York and in France, who’ve made me laugh till I cry, listened to me complain repeatedly, hyped me up big-time and allowed me to share in their phenomenal lives. I’m not showing their pictures here out of respect for their privacy, but you know who you are, mes belles !

My Biggest Surprise in Moving to France

When I met Monsieur B and moved to France for love (I got married for the very first time at age 54, in a French ceremony), I knew I was in for a Big Adventure. As a former die-hard New Yorker who’d spent time in Paris for fun and French language studies, I was aware that my style of life was going to change greatly.

It’s true that I hadn’t anticipated how poorly this reinvention would be received by my family, but you know what? Tant pis (too bad)—after all, they could’ve had an open invite to Paris and the charming French countryside if they’d even just acted happy for me!

I didn’t have any idea of all the things that were about to transform as a result of ce grand changement de vie (this big life change). Even my own personal style got a reboot. But I knew that being dropped into a completely new culture, with a new husband and family, figuring out a new work rhythm and strategy—it was sure to be beaucoup (a lot). And this is especially true given that I never thought I’d even get married.

However. There is one thing that has surprised (and delighted) me more than anything else about this new life in France: The Women! Les filles, les femmes, les dames ! I simply never would have predicted that moving to a big new city, I’d meet and get to know so many fascinating, kind, witty and wonderful new female friends. In fact, I was almost 100% sure that I would have a lot of trouble finding new women to whom I’d feel a genuine closeness. Mais heureusement, j’avais tort (But happily, I was wrong).

In moving to France, I worried a lot about missing my besties back in NYC.

Et franchement, that is still tough, even though we do jump on FaceTimes and chat calls (and occasional full-blown rant sessions), and we do bien sûr (of course) send each other funny memes like this no-drama llama.

But in New York, I’d had a very small circle of good friends. In the last ten years I’d only made a couple of real connections. So I just never would’ve thought that at my age, in a foreign country where I had no networks, I’d immediately find a whole group of fabulous women that I truly want to hang out with. It has been both a bonus and a lifeline.

What Is It About Making Friends in a New Country?

Well, there’s a certain kind of “Thrown-Together Theory” that may apply when you find yourself living that fish-out-of-water life. You look around, you clock another slightly stunned and displaced but excited being in the vicinity, and it’s just likely that you’re going to “get” each other more easily because of all that new-country trauma you’re both navigating. L’administration française (French bureaucracy), anyone ?

When You Move to France, People Want to Introduce You to Someone

When colleagues and friends in the States heard that I’d be living in Paris, they quickly offered to put me in touch with folks who were already here. They knew I’d need people. One dear friend (who also happens to be my literary agent) introduced me to another of her authors, who had herself married un français a few years back and lives here. Then that friend introduced me one of her friends, a brilliant Coloradan whom I probably never would’ve met if we both hadn’t been in Paris looking for community.

At left, preparing a birthday package for one of my favorite friends. I loved the card because it listed a bunch of great (French) adjectives to describe her perfectly. At right is something I never would've seen if I hadn't been at her birthday dinner at Jean Imbert at the Plaza Athénée. When she got up to use the ladies room, the servers rushed over to put a personal stove of pure silver under her plate to keep it warm. Ça c'est classe ! (Classy!)

In fact, as a result of an unforgettable private tour at the Musée Rodin that my dear Coloradan pal invited me to join, I met yet another very close friend—a complete badass Canadienne show runner with several hit series, one of which was filmed inside the famed Opéra Garnier. This particularly awesome beauty is currently in the middle of a very serious health crisis, so we’ve switched our three-hour lunches to shorter visits and even deeper conversations. If you’d like to join me in sending her some healing vibrations, I’d be most grateful.

I just never expected to meet—and actually dig—this number of new women, and here in France, this type of introduction has amplified from one friend to another. The same seems to be true for many of the expats I meet. There’s a lot of connecting that goes on, because nearly everyone has a cool friend in Paris.

On veut des commentaires ! We want comments!

But What about Making French Friends in France?

This has always been a goal for me, because while I adore my expat squad, I’m also committed to really integrating fully into French society. That’s why I continue to work hard on my language skills and keep putting myself in uncomfortable situations.

My experience in making French friends (in French) as an American in France is that…it’s a slower process, but it’s worth it. After two and a half years, I now can say I have one adorable French friend, a neighbor who is an accomplished swing dancer and a high-ranking fonctionnaire (official) with the French post office.

Even just the process of becoming friends has been like a dance. In the American style of friend-making, I would’ve loved to just jump right in and invite her to lunch or coffee and say, “Wanna be friends?” and give her a big hug.

But my French husband told me that it’s different here, and to take it slow, so that’s what I did. In the beginning, on se vouvoyait (we used the formal pronouns to address each other). Then months later, after chatting sur le palier (on the landing in the hallway) or on the sidewalk, we transitioned to se tutoyer (addressing each other informally).

Awhile later we invited her for l’apéro at our place. Then after another few months, she invited us chez elle for l’apéro. A few more back and forths of this kind, and she made my day: she invited me (without Monsieur B) to have lunch with her in her apartment on a weekday. A Parisian ladies’ lunch for which she’d made everything herself, including a (non-alcoholic) lunch apéritif, followed by a tasty gluten-free quiche with a pretty lentil salad, an actual cheese course, and even a clafoutis !

More recently, on s’est fait la bise (we greeted each other by kissing on both cheeks), which is a very common practice but not something you do with a stranger. In Paris, it’s normally two kisses, but throughout France there are different customs as seen in the map below. The key at right stands for the number of kisses. Red=1, Yellow=2 and onward.

My French Language Friendship Skills Still Need Work

Via this friendship with ma voisine (my neighbor), I discovered some holes in my French conversation skills. Even though I’m technically fluent, most of the girlfriends-type chats I have—the ones where we’d talk about life events or self-care or just deeper emotional stuff—normally I’d be doing all that in English with my anglophone friends. But with this dear new amie, the friendship itself is 100% en français. So I gotta get with my private prof and work on that.

Friend vocabulary (ladies only this time), just for kicks:

Une chère amie (A dear friend)

Je vais déjeuner avec des copines (I’m going to have lunch with some girlfriends)

T’es magnifique (You look fabulous)

Raconte ! (Tell me everything!)

Fun French Friend Fact: The expression “être copains comme cochons / être copines comme cochons” is a way of saying you’re really tight with a friend. It literally means “to be friends like pigs” hee hee

What the Heck Are All These Women Doing in France?

The fascinating thing is, everyone comes to Paris (or any great city) for a different reason. One woman I admire, an American lawyer, came for a short assignment with a Parisian firm. She never went home and now, something like fifteen years later, she has a stunning apartment literally in front of the Eiffel Tower, onto which she built a gorgeous terrace—a feat that required years of struggle with her neighbors and her local government. But she stepped up, she figured it out, and she did the damn thing.

Another new friend, a lovely and light-hearted Californian, came to Paris after a brutal divorce. She’s currently reinventing herself, and I have so much respect for the fact that she did this all without initially speaking French. She jumped right in—the visa, the apartment, the completely new culture. After just a year in Paris, she has a private French tutor, a whole lot of friends who adore her (including me), and an impressive command of the Parisian dating scene. Brava, ma biche !

There are women who’ve moved to Paris in support of spouses who’ve taken on a new job in finance or AI or retail, who are likely here just for a year or two, and I respect how they put down roots and figure out how to live well for the time they’ll spend in France. “Bloom where you’re planted,” as they say. Je le kiffe ! (I love it!)

Say Yes to Meeting New Friends in Paris

Of course it’s possible to not make friends in France or wherever you happen to move. It’s interesting that when I used to travel to Paris alone, I pretty much kept to myself. Despite what many think, I’m kind of an introvert, so it didn’t naturally occur to me to reach out and try to build a crew here.

But if I had it to do over, I would’ve started earlier and been more proactive in terms of joining groups, both online and within my area. In Paris, I particularly like the American Women’s Group, which offers all kinds of activities (book club, wine tastings, workshops) including a weekly walk/jog in the Tuileries followed by coffee talk at a nearby café.

This type of group is wonderful because it changes as some women come and go, and others remain here définitivement (permanently). There are those who’ve been in the City of Lights for many years, and a few who seem to have lived all over the world.

There’s a lot of knowledge, courage understanding and support to be found among them, and I will be forever grateful to all my Parisian ladies for catching me gently and with laughter and sweetness when I dropped in from afar.

I sometimes walk and jog with the AWG in the luscious Tuileries Gardens. Afterwards, it’s coffee talk at a nearby café!

And Now, Let Them See Cake!

Speaking of cool women in Paris, if you’re interested in reading a great book about some of them, check out Parisian-American author Lindsey Tramuta’s excellent book, The New Parisienne.

Also recently I was in Provence for an unforgettable women’s retreat organized by the one and only

Ajiri Aki

(who’s also featured in the above book). One day, as we were strolling through a brocante (flea market) I spotted the most beautiful copper moule à gâteau (cake mold), complete with its fleur de lys motif, an historical symbol of France.

My latest precious French brocante treasure, a copper cake mold, and my first (successful) efforts at a citrus cake

It’s small and in perfect condition on the interior, having been re-tinned, and I baked a little cake with it last weekend for Monsieur B. I riffed off of this recipe video from Claire Saffitz (I switched the citrus from her Meyer lemons to my mandarin oranges and added a little Grand Marnier). Les résultats (the result): c’était un vrai régale (it was a real treat).

That reminds me—I just got a call from Monsieur Dehellerin in Paris to say that my vintage set of copper pots and covers have been fully rétamés (re-tinned) and are ready for pickup. I can’t wait to go in and collect them and I’ll share some photos next time. I just love that this is a place where Julia Child used to shop for cooking equipment.

OK mes chers et mes chères, je vous laisse profiter de votre week-end. (OK my dears, I’ll let you enjoy your weekend). And yes, “week-end” has a hyphen in French.

Sending big bisous to you wherever you are in the world and wishing you sweet moments with your good friends, sipping coffee or wine, telling stories and secrets and laughing together.

A très bientôt,

Karen