Changes

I'm not an adventurous person. My idea of the perfect evening is a good book, some lapsang souchang tea, and maybe a cat purring somewhere in the house. But I have some adventurous sides. I like travelling, I like meeting new people in strange circumstances, and discovering new things.

This clumsy introduction to say: I sometimes surprise myself by doing out of character things.

Almost ten months ago, still shaky from my breakup, I asked a man for his number at a party and called him the next day. Subtle! None of the usual rules we are taught to apply in the seduction game counted then, because I was not after a relationship, just what we call in French an "aventure", a fling. I went for it with careless energy, not wondering if he thought I was crazy or weird, or investing huge amounts of emotion in our dealings. In retrospect, this probably explains why we got along so well from the start. Neither of us was pretending to be someone we were not. It saves time down the line.

Now of course we are going towards...something else. We have plans. He is cautious and commitment-phobish, and to a certain extent so am I. I don't want to move in with him, I am certainly not planning my life around him, but still. We have plans. Plans to spend New Year together. Plans when I come back from Berlin in November. Little plans, like making reservations in a nice restaurant to celebrate my academic success, and bigger plans, like vacations.

I don't feel secure with him. He keeps the distance, always, and I do too, in other ways. It's not safe and nurturing. It's something else. And I trust him more and more, with my feelings and with myself.

I never thought I would be happy in a relationship like this.

Maybe I am less needy, less insecure and less annoying.

But as my sister would laughingly point out, still a serial monogamist!

Disguises

I'm wearing my grown-up dress. It's got a big skirt and a slim top, and I pair it with a blazer and some heels. I'm wearing this dress because I spent all day whoring myself out at the Sciences Po Business convention, giving my CVs and asking for money.Ironically, this took place in the Paris House of Chemistry. It feels quite strange, that this is a thing people do every day, when they ask for grants, for scholarships, and yet I find it so difficult. Give me!Money! On my shoulder you can see my big bruise-scratch that I got from tripping over a branch while running with the track team. Stupid. I also have a couple of beauties on each of my knees. I'm clumsy. Here's the thing: I've been covering up a lot of my bruises and of my hurts recently. On the one hand I deal with them better if I pretend they're simply not there. On the other, I know that they will hurt even more when I attend to them. Scary prospect. All these thoughts collided when I had lunch with my friend L from Lyon today. I felt a rush of nostalgia for all the good times we had together and I loved hearing about all the things she is doing. She admired my outfit and told me how old-ladyish I looked. I took off my top and showed her some of my AMAZING SPORT injuries. She giggled. "I guess some things don't change." I'm so used to people asking me to change, to always improve, that I found something wonderful in that shedding of my disguise.

Boring

I've never been the fun, hot chick. I dated the best-looking boy in my high-school and people would come up to talk to me for the first time, eager to understand how I had pulled this off. How did she get the hot guy? was the unspoken question. She's bo-ring.
And to a high school crowd, I was. I am the nerdiest nerd you can imagine. I wear spectacles, when I remember, but most of the time I bump randomly into stuff. I read political science treatises like novels. I record shows on the history channel on "Pain in Medieval Times". I drink very little, since I cannot hold my liquor. I don't do drugs. I don't smoke. I don't go to bars or to clubs. I don't have one-night stands.

And for a long time I felt boring. These people were right, there was only one way to fit in and it was through alcohol or artificial paradise. When I was asked about my hobbies I would explain apologetically that I was a very boring person. No, I'm sorry, I don't want a drink. I'm boring.

Then I met my ex. He is quite possibly the least boring person I know. He occasionally smokes. He drinks a lot. He has one-night stands. He travels wildly accross the world and meets gloriously eccentric, unboring people. Living with him meant you never knew who he might bring back for dinner. He taught me how to camp, how to travel and how to enjoy adventure, especially all those times when everything goes wrong and you have to improvise. I felt cool by proxy. All the pressure went away. When X introduced me to his friends, they didn't try to discover what hidden gems of awesome my lackluster presentation would reveal. They took it for granted that I was game for anything.


Sara in the lovely town of Annecy. Looking nerdy. Hey, I was camping!

I don't want to apologize for who I am anymore. Maybe my life seems dull to some, that's fine. We don't all live the same way.
I have off days like everyone.

But I feel the opposite of boring these days. I feel free.