A Love-Hate Relationship with Paris
Paris has always held a special place in my heart. Having lived there for four years, I have countless memories that I will always cherish. However, I can also understand why many people find the city overwhelming, messy, and overrated.
The city offers a unique charm with its flaky pastries, strong coffee, and excellent wine. Even the most affordable supermarket wines are surprisingly good. But it’s not all smooth sailing. The city is often plagued by pouring rain, and the locals can be quite rude. Plus, the work culture is something I struggled to adapt to.
For someone who isn’t a born-and-bred Parisian, life here can be challenging. Even my French friends from Lyon and the south of France agree that there’s a certain unspoken language among those who grew up in the city. No amount of French fluency can teach you that.
I had the opportunity to live in Paris for three years in the early 2000s and again in 2021. These experiences gave me a significant advantage when I moved back in my early twenties. I hoped that living in France as a child would help me integrate better when I returned. In some ways, it did – I wasn’t met with as much attitude as my English-speaking friends.
But in reality, living in the most romantic city on earth isn’t always easy. I had dreamed of leaving my north London suburb behind. Nothing screams ‘hell on earth’ more than a leafy neighborhood, an hour from the city buzz, where everyone knows everyone and a neighbor can just pop over for a coffee unannounced.
I craved the anonymity of Paris, as well as its glamour. Above all, I was dying to give dating a try in the ‘City of Love’ – hoping my experiences would be at least a tad more fun than in my suburban enclave.
With the worst of the Covid-19 pandemic behind me, it seemed like the time to go. Armed with a job in marketing and my vintage trench coat, I was off.
People warn you that Paris is expensive – but coming from London, I wasn’t too worried. That was until I realized rent for the flat I had chosen would amount to £1,200 – for comparison, my current London apartment sets me back just £1,000 with bills included. The first pitfall I encountered.
But that wasn’t Paris’ biggest downfall. I was expecting it. What disappointed me the most was that, for a city that markets itself as romantic, it’s surprisingly difficult to find love here.
I had no such success here – meeting my partner back in comparatively unromantic London years later – while all my friends in Paris seemed devastated by a string of romantic betrayals: everything from prospective dates who wouldn’t commit to full-blown adultery.
The prude English woman in me couldn’t bear it when one man called me his ‘girlfriend’ on the second date and asked me to meet his parents – with no prior warning. Needless to say, there was no third date.
Don’t take it from me, though – the list of romantic failures in Paris are ironic given the city’s reputation as the zenith of romantic.
One friend told me: “My entire dating experience with dating in France can be summed up as – every French guy I’ve ever dated has proposed to (or actually taken me on) a romantic trip within the first few weeks. And is also doing the same with five other women. And he’s in love with each one.”
Romantic, sure. But hardly the seeds of a serious relationship.
In fact, I don’t have a single friend who is still dating someone from Paris. Most of us failed to form strong love connections – and those who did were generally left in a state of utter heartbreak.
While I am sure plenty of people find – and keep – love in Paris, for me, the city is far better as a romantic holiday destination with an existing partner than the place to find one in the first place.
The ‘romantic’ notion of Paris is fast becoming cheapened – with garish proposals under the Eiffel Tower a dime a dozen, roses sold on street corners, accordion players serenading any ‘lovers’ (read: tourists strolling, unaware, in their vicinity) and cliched restaurants offering deals on a ‘menu for two’.
In glossy magazines and in the movies, every female character finds Prince Charming in the high-end restaurants and cafes of Paris.
In reality, you’re more likely to be dumped by a Luc, Henri or Thomas who just ‘doesn’t have the time to focus on dating right now, mon amour.’
In a city of so many people, everyone seems to feel replaceable – you can move on from one ‘girlfriend’ only to find a new one the next day.
Sure, you could put it all down to me being young, to the decline dating culture the world over, to the presence of online apps in every corner of the globe.
But it seems most paradoxical that the city in which I’ve found dating the hardest is the one known as the city of love.
