Go. Do it. Live that dream.

Four years in the making. That’s how long it has taken us to finally follow our dream and begin building a life in France.

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It wasn’t a straight line. There was the failed house-hunting trip in 2022, complete with an “advisor” who turned out to be more fiction than help. Then came the pauses—long ones—filled with reasons that sounded sensible at the time. I had a great job. Hans had a great job. Our daughter. The timing. And, if I’m honest, fear dressed up as practicality: heat waves, forest fires, storms, even the unlikely threat of parasites harming our dog. (Crazy, I know. But I wasn’t joking about that part.)

Last year, when I called it off again, a colleague said something that stayed with me: “This is your dream. There’s a bigger chance that your house ends up under water in the Netherlands than a fire destroying it in France.” It wasn’t really about geography, climate, or things that happen beyond our control. It was a friendly nudge; way of saying: “Stop hiding behind unlikely scenarios. If it matters, go.”

This year, things really started to shift. Fall into place, but more than that—I stopped turning away from who I am. And then there were the red balloons.

I know how that sounds, but they have a way of appearing when I need reassurance. One even showed up at our doorstep not long ago. I suddenly had to think back to the film Faraway, which I watched last year while stuck in that loop of “stay or go.” It’s about a woman who leaves everything behind for a new life in Croatia—about letting go, and the courage it takes to begin again. There’s a scene with red balloons at the end that stayed with me long after the credits rolled. At the time, it felt like a major hint I wasn’t quite ready to receive.

Now I am.

These past weeks, we’ve been packing our life into boxes. The first ones were the hardest. It felt less like sorting belongings and more like closing chapters.

After nearly three decades in the Netherlands, there’s an undeniably bittersweet weight to it—I’m leaving behind habits, places, versions of myself that belong here. And yet, there are so many moments where it all turns light again, and I find myself singing Blue Skies out loud (ps: the Ella Fitzgerald and Willie Nelson versions are so beautiful). I catch myself smiling, almost surprised: we’re really doing this.

This morning, I said it out loud again to Hans, just to hear how it sounds: “We’re finally moving to France!” It still feels slightly unreal, as if saying it might wake me up from a dream. I think of the small things waiting for us—my favorite morning markets, the landscapes I’ve fallen in love with, even the lovely people I’ve met, and of course, the new rhythms, a different kind of everyday. Bring on the challenge (if you want to call it that).

As I write this, Hans is outside working in the garden. We’ve poured ourselves into this house, shaping it room by room, making it ready for the lucky ones who will call it “home” next. It holds so much of our life. And leaving it is not nothing.

But I’m beginning to understand that “home” isn’t only what you build and leave behind. It’s also what you’re willing to walk toward, and with whom.

So this is us, finally choosing forward. Not because it’s guaranteed to be perfect, but because it’s ours to try. And maybe that’s the whole point: at some moment, you stop waiting for certainty and decide that the life you imagined deserves a chance to exist.

If you’re standing at that edge yourself, wondering whether to stay where it’s safe or step into something unknown—this is your sign, or your red balloon, or whatever you need it to be.

Go. Do it. Live that dream.

Before you go…

Here’s a sneak peek of tomorrow’s podcast. I’ll be taking you to Lot-et-Garonne! See you there?

PS:

The French Life Podcast is only available to paid subscribers. Last week I shared a free episode (you can listen here).

Until this Wednesday 15 April, you can sign up for an annual subscription for $40 instead of $55. If you love good food, thoughtful stories, and French-inspired living, you’ll feel right at home. I’ll also be posting more personal updates about our move.