The reverse Paris Syndrome
<p>‘Them’ is who I could’ve become, had I stayed in Paris. Instead, I moved to London and I’ve never looked back. Well, that bit isn’t exactly true, as I get confronted by British people who don’t seem to comprehend why I would leave the City of Lights for the Big Smoke. Don’t you want to go back, they ask, probably to make sure they don’t invest too much time in me if I’m going to leave them soon. Why did you leave Paris, they cry, when it’s so romantic? Now let’s get this straight: Paris might seem romantic when you’re not French and you whisk your girlfriend away for a long weekend, an engagement ring secretly packed between your boxers. But the reality of it, when you live there all year long and you don’t have the luxury to enjoy a café-croissant every morning on a terrace? Not so <em>romantique</em>, especially when no one’s here to make fun of the hilariously grumpy waiter — instead you have to endure the most insulting catcalls.</p>
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