I have given up my quest to feel French.

I originally decided to write a blog about all the little ah-ha moments that made me feel a part of the country. Any time a French person mistook me for one of them, I partook in their culture, or I succeeded in speaking the language, I wanted to share it.

The more involved I become in this bizarre, foreign land, however,the less a part of it I feel. This feeling reached a new height when I was out shopping in Vieux Lille with my French boyfriend (FBF).

We were out shopping for him, and despite the fact that a portion of our time was spent looking at European man-bags, it was surprisingly not the only thing that convinced me I’d never fit in here.

Being teased by FBF for something I no longer remember, I exclaimed, “Hey! People often mistake me for a French girl!” He immediately burst into laughter. He then told me that there is no way anyone would ever think I’m French. Nice one, isn’t he?

So I don’t think I’ll ever be French, but that’s okay. I wouldn’t really want to be. I’ll just continue to blog about how weird I think everything French is. C'est ma vie quotidenne (it's my everyday life)!
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