The truth usually wins a staring contest

I catch a glimpse of myself in the smudged mirror as I exit the bathroom. My reflection catches me off guard, as it usually does. I take a minute to study the reflection I don't recognize. When did my own body become foreign to me? I rub the dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, I pick at the acne on my cheeks and chin from lack of nutrition, and I run my hands through my brittle hair from lack of hydration.

Ashamed and embarrassed by my image, I look down. This was a mistake. I see the pudgy ghost of where my defined core used to be. I stretch my hands over the long purple marks that have formed on my legs. This is not a body I am proud of. Once, it was something that I spent hours a week working on, perfecting. When had I decided that taking care of myself was no longer a priority?

I don't have to look much longer to find my answer. I pull my sleeves down quickly to cover the scars on my arms, as I always do. This is the part of me that I am the most ashamed of. Somewhere when the depression set in, and I slowly began giving up on other parts of my life, my body had gone with it. I was ashamed of those scars. They were few, but they reminded me of the darkest era of my life.

I look up at the mirror again, this time blurred from my view by the tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks.

I remind myself of how far I've come, where I started, and where I was going. I reminded myself that what mattered was the person inside, not the scars on this temporal body. Just as the cuts had healed into scars, the raw cuts on my self-image would heal over.

I wipe my tears, smile at my reflection in the mirror, and I take a closer look.

I marvel at my smooth lips, the beautiful curl in my hair, and the deep blue of my eyes. I look down and admire the strength that comes from my sturdy legs, the full belly that means that I haven't had to go hungry, and my elegant, long arms. I see my scars, both visible and not, as a foundation for great growth. My past does not define me, but it shows how I've gotten to where I am now. It reminds me that I'm strong. It reminds me that I can shoulder through the trials. It reminds me of what I will never be again.  

"I'm sorry, I don't speak English": Paris week 3

This week started off with being horribly sick(as was mentioned in last weeks post). I was actually sick the entire week. I steadily improved throughout the week, though. Friday was the first day where I felt like I could actually leave the apartment and do things. I just had to make sure I had plenty of tissues in my bag. ;)

However, even though I was sick, which was not fun, it wasn't that bad. I napped a ton the first few days, but I just allowed myself to have a few chill days. I didn't worry about the fact that I wasn't going out and doing things. I tried to let myself recover, even though I was worried that I was missing the "experience" of being in Paris. 

The surprising thing was, on Friday when I felt good enough to go out and do thing, Paris was still there. ;)

Friday I went to a cute bakery on the other side of the city, and then I went to see Notre Dame. It. Was. Breathtaking.

Also it was free, which was a huge plus. ;)

The trains have been on strike here since the beginning of week 2, so it took me forever to get home. Aside from that, my trip was lovely.

Saturday, E had a dance recital that took up a good bit of my day. But it was adorable and I loved it. 

I don't seem to remember the really intense Indian scene in "Snow White"... ;)

The little "dwarves" were adorable, though. 

I didn't get a picture of E while she was dancing, sadly. She's the short one in the second row, looking to the left.

I'm picking up more and more of the language. I actually learn the most from M, the baby. And often, when in conversation with other people, I'll take note of some of the words/phrases I will hear repeatedly, and then I'll look them up later. It's actually been incredibly helpful. I learned the word for "Marmoset", which is obviously vital to my everyday conversational needs. 

One thing I've found myself saying quite often, on accident is, when people try to speak to me in French I often respond with, "I'm sorry, I don't speak English." 

Face. Palm. 

I need to differentiate between "I don't speak French" and "I only speak English" a bit more... 

The time is passing much more quickly than I anticipated. But that's okay, I'm glad that it's not dragging out uncomfortably. 

Today I was able to go to church, finally.

It was exactly what I needed. The lesson in Relief Society was even about leaning on the atonement when we need help. Seriously, just what I needed.

I slept through my alarm, and I had an incredibly difficult time getting myself there, so I was only there for the last hour. But I'm so glad I still went. I met some wonderful people. And the Young Adults do quite a few more things than I had anticipated. And there's institute! Definitely going to that this week. I'm really stoked.

I met a few girls at church that have invited me to join them on a few things this week, and there's a YSA dance this Saturday. So this week should be really great.

And I just want to say thank you to everyone that has shared their love with me these last few weeks, and the weeks before I left. It really means a lot to me to know that I have people in various places in the states cheering me on, and I try not to get too sad about missing you guys. ;)

Also. Mariah, my lovely roommate from this past school year, is getting MARRIED this week. It makes me so sad that I won't be there, but I am so excited for her and Tanner and their eternity together.

AND Bonnie is getting her mission papers turned in RIGHT NOW. Like, she's currently in a meeting with her Stake President to get them sent off. So. That's really exciting too, and I am so stoked for her.

I miss these two so much that my heart hurts. 

Okay, and now I promise that I'm done being sappy, haha.

Bed-ridden: Paris week 2

This week was the first week that I had all of my regular duties to do all by myself. Which was a little nerve wrecking on a few occasions.

Running along the Seine river every morning :)

In the mornings(on every weekday) I make the kids lunchboxes, and then I clean up breakfast and play with M(the youngest) while their mom takes the oldest two to school. After that(which is only two hours) I have the rest of the day off until I pick up S and E from school and take them to their various classes, then they come home, get baths, and then I'm free again after dinner. Two nights a week I make dinner, which I don't really mind. And then I have at least 2 nights a week that I babysit, but it's been quite a bit more this week(which is fine. I get paid extra for that).

Can't complain about the view. ;)

On Tuesday, the weather report said it was supposed to rain. After I had sent the kiddos off to school, as I was walking back to my apartment, I noticed there was a lull in the rain. So, OBVIOUSLY, I should go running, right? Because it wasn't currently raining...

I got roughly 1/2 a mile into my run before it started raining, so I had to turn back and come back home before it got really bad. Nonetheless, I was soaked by the time I came home.

I'd like to put an open invitation out there to everyone that I accidentally hit with my umbrella on Tuesday. I just..yeah..the sidewalks are much smaller than I'm used to...and that umbrella was a bit big..so...I apologize.

It rained buckets that day.

On Thursday, as S and I were walking home from his Judo lesson, as we were crossing the street I said, "Exactement"(Which is French for Exactly...which isn't that hard to pick up) in response to a question he had asked me. He looked up at me in amazement and said, "Aurora, you just said that in French!"
"Yes, S, I did."
"Now you know THREE words in French!"

Guys, I know a lot more than three words in French.

When I asked him what the other two were, he explained that they were "Noisette" and "Noix", which I had learned the week before when we'd all had ice cream together and had eaten nuts on top of it. Noisette = hazlenuts, Noix = walnuts/nuts.

He was so excited that he came home and told his mother and she laughed and said that I was basically fluent now. NBD.

E had me draw with her. And I had to copy her EXACTLY. Or else. 

The next day, Friday, is when my weekend started going downhill. I woke up with a bit of a sore throat, and I didn't do a lot with my day because I had a pounding headache to go with it. I mostly just sat in my apartment and read, because the bright sun outside hurt my eyes.

Saturday it was worse. But by the end of the night I was thinking that it wasn't THAT bad. It was improving.

Until I woke up on Sunday(yesterday). I was so sick when I woke up that I was unable to go to church, which REALLY bummed me out. I napped on and off all day, and I had to call and cancel babysitting that night because even getting up just hurt so bad. I slept really fitfully last night and it just sucked.

But I'm really blessed. Although I'm still pretty sick, the family I'm with is so sweet. Helene is having me do the minimum until I feel better, which means I've gotten plenty of recovery time. I've only left today to run to the pharmacy(not literally run. I'm too weak for that, foo). She's picking up the kids from school for me and taking them to their lessons. I just have to be there to make dinner and babysit later, which is such a relief to me. I'm in really good hands.

So, despite my bout of sickness over the weekend, things are still going really well here. I can't believe I've been here two weeks now. It blows my mind.

Ant bites and thunderstorms: Week 1 in Paris

So much has happened, and at the same time, I feel like so little has happened.

I arrived in Paris on Tuesday. My bag was lost, so it took me an entire extra hour to even leave the airport. Then it took an hour to drive into Paris. It was crazy, I just sat and stared out the windows, taking in everything. It worked out well, because I don't think my driver spoke any English. I met the family that night. They were wonderful. They fed me an AMAZING meal, and told me to take my time getting settled the next morning, and that they didn't expect me downstairs until 10-11 am. Which was fine with me. 

My apartment also happens to be up 8 flights of stairs. Which kinda stinks, but, I'll have really nice legs at the end of this. So, there's a silver lining. ;)

It rained my entire first day.

Due to jetlag, I didn't sleep very well the next two nights, but I was constantly napping. That probably wasn't the best thing for my jetlag, but I figured it was better than getting NO sleep. And then over the weekend, I ended up just feeling exhausted ALL the time, and I napped and slept way more than I probably should have. 

I had to get creative, due to my lack of toiletries.

The first full day was full of seeing new things, learning where things were, and trying to figure out how to brush my teeth without a toothbrush. There was some toothpaste under the sink(left from their last Au Pair) so I used that on my teeth for the first day. Gross? I know.

Also, trying to go grocery shopping(especially gluten free?) when you can't read any labels or understand anything? And for some reason, I have a reeeaaaallly hard time asking people for help. I'm a tad bit paranoid that I'll get kidnapped(right in a supermarket. I know, I think things through...)

I didn't do a lot of sight seeing the first few days. I really didn't want to get lost(I do a lot of that wherever I go...) and so when I wasn't with the family, I usually stuck to a two block radius around where I was living.

Luckily, that includes the Eiffel Tower.

I cannot even describe how breath taking this is in person. I just...cannot describe.

The Louvre is so much bigger than I anticipated.

I finally got around to sight seeing on Saturday. The Louvre, and the Garden outside it, were magical. After 2 hours in the museum, I couldn't take anything else in, and I wandered around until I found the exit. However, I plan on going back a few times within the next few weeks so I can make sure that I get to see everything.

I really got to see her. Nbd, guys. ;)

This is my view as I walk home from basically anywhere.

Living so close to the tower definitely has its perks. ;) One being that it's amazingly beautiful. The other being that I always know which direction home is. Haha.

So grateful for the technology to get to see my grandpa of a dad. ;)

I've gotten to skype and face time with my family a few times since arriving and I am so grateful for that. When I'm feeling really lonely, or upset at the language barrier, it's nice to know that my mom will face time me, even when it's 6 AM her time and she's just barely waking up.

The stairs are crazy narrow.

I mentioned that I have to walk up 8 flights of incredibly narrow and somewhat steep stairs everytime I want to go to my apartment, right? :P

This week has definitely had it's ups and downs. My apartment is overrun with ants. The weather is incredibly humid, so after about 30 minutes of being outside, I look like a lion. Super great. And even the lightest t shirt and shorts feel incredibly heavy and sticky. I'm definitely not used to this...haha.

But the people here are so nice, and most people I've run into speak at least a little bit of English. And the family I'm with is wonderful, and I adore the kids. A few of them remind me of my siblings, and although it makes me slightly homesick, it's comforting. Until they start screaming in French and then I change my mind. ;)

All in all, it's been a good week. I'm enjoying it a lot, and I'm really excited for the experiences I'll get to have over the next few months. :)

And so it begins...

All right guys.

I'm in Paris. 

Hold up. Allow me to repeat myself. 

I'm in Paris. 

Yeah. This is real. It sure as heck doesn't feel real though. 

The flights here were long. So long. And sleeping on planes is an incredibly difficult task. Despite that, I managed to sleep through breakfast yesterday. Lucky me. I did, however, sit next to a very nice, and interesting, elderly Israeli man on my flight to London. He offered me a sleeping pill. 

The jet lag is crazy. Seriously. 

This is when I started getting REALLY excited. 

Keeping "Taken" in mind (plus, isn't this like an adult version on the man in the van offering you candy?) I kindly declined. 

You can't really tell, but this is when we were flying over Cardiff. You'll just have to trust me. ;)

But then I missed my connecting flight in London. So, after rushing through customs and sprinting to my gate, I ended up waiting an extra few hours in London before I could board my plane to Paris. 

And when I got there, turns out my bag got lost, due to the missed flight. It should've arrived last night, so I'm hoping to find it when I head downstairs. 

Due to all the flight mix ups, my host family was unable to come pick me up, and they sent a car to come get me. I spent the hour car trip to their apartment just soaking everything up. I can't understand anyone, and everyone here seems to be so chic and skinny, and it is incredible. 

There will be so so SO many pictures to come. And these next ones will be way better quality, I promise. ;) 

I listened to the rain all night. Nature is an excellent white noise machine. ;)

I am so excited to begin this adventure. I'm in a beautiful city, with a wonderful family. I have great support back home, and I am so blessed!!