08/06/2026
A lot of Instagram can be about the dream life when moving to France and it really can be but it takes time. However reflecting after my birthday 🎂 weekend has really got me thinking.
The price of community and connection is one of the hardest parts of moving to a new country. I don’t think we talk enough about it.
You leave behind the people who know you, love you, get you, your history, your routines and your support network. Then one day you realise you’re starting from scratch with noone.
This time last year, I didn’t know many people at all. Even after a year living in Uzès, I spent my birthday alone. I was renovating a house, trying to understand life in a new country, and raising a little boy who was still finding his voice.
If I’m honest, I was trying a little too hard.
I desperately wanted a sense of belonging —not just for me, but for Hugo. I wanted him to have playdates, help his speech I think most importantly and a have sense of home. The loneliness was overwhelming. Somewhere along the way, I questioned who I really was.
Fast forward a year, and what a difference time can make.
This weekend was one of those moments that makes you stop and appreciate how far you’ve come. Between the magic of the Fête de la Musique in my local village, watching generations dance together in the square, and a neighbour who is now one of my favourite people kindly opening his home to me and a few friends to celebrate my birthday, I felt incredibly grateful.
Grateful for this little village. Grateful for the people I’ve met. Grateful that I chose to put down roots here.
Some places are beautiful. Some places feel like home. Every now and then, if you’re lucky, they’re the same place.
If you’re building a life somewhere new, be patient with yourself. Community takes time. Connection takes time. Feeling at home takes time.
But every so often, you find those gems 💎—the people, the places, the moments—that remind you why the journey was worth it in the first place. ❤️