I wrote this text back in November and never published it but after feeling so much love in the past few days I wanted to honor and love myself instead of censoring myself as it seems I did back in November during those terrible attacks on the city I love most and least so here I go:
I am not home right now but I am home always. I was born and raised in what they call the city of lights and as a Parisian my duty is to always look for the best ” terrasse” when I go out to eat. This is something no good restaurant in Paris should be without.
I heard people were afraid to sit outside on the ” terrasses” in Paris. I was told by my friends in the US they were afraid to go to France for a vacation now. I hope none of this is true or that at least it will change. I am home in my head sitting at a cafe and enjoying the view because regardless of who bombs anyone, anywhere, we need to keep living. The real act of terror is when we succumb to whoever the orchestrator is out of fear. Terrorists and governments alike need to remember that surgical strikes don’t explain to little girls why Daddy did not come home. Whether the home is in Damascus, Paris, Beirut or Kabul the little girl will grow up with a hole in her heart.We need to heal the wounds instead of opening more by going eye for eye because we need both eyes to see and a full heart to feel.