There’s no place like home: Embracing expat otherness

I have lived in Paris for almost exactly 8 years, and whilst itโ€™s fair to say Iโ€™ve long since been pretty damn parisienne, Iโ€™m clearly not โ€“ nor will I ever be โ€“ French. Iโ€™m very comfortable in this country; more at home than Iโ€™ve ever felt anywhere else; thoroughly assimilated in a culture that made more sense to me than the one I grew up in long before I even moved here. But I donโ€™t have the references of a native franรงaise, having neither been raised in France, nor by French parents.

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