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Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to become a writer nor a journalist. I just want to understand.
Confusion is the reason of this project.
I have rewritten 100 times these firsts words because I wanted them to be perfect, to be the right ones, but I guess, who cares? Even though, I am doing this for myself, I can’t help writing as if it were for someone else.
I should start with the beginning. I am a 24-year-old French woman. I have a business master’s degree. I have amazing friends and a great family. I am a libra and a cat person. With these few lines, you already know half of my life and it probably looks like thousands of sad Tinder bios.
And as I mentioned it, I am confused. Confused because I had everything I was supposed to have, and I just decided to throw it away.
Master’s degree, first job, first apartment, friends, Paris, parties, supporting family — all the keywords of the beginning of a great young adult life, right? So why am I feeling like I need something else, something new? I don’t feel depressed or unhappy, I am just trying to figure it out.
These stories are going to be full of questions, with only few answers. But this is my way of processing, don’t judge me.
I could also start by asking myself: “why do you want to write in English?”. Not that easy to answer. Is it possible that my brain has its own way of thinking and reacting in English? And that I prefer this version of myself than the French version? I don’t know, I guess I should do some research and write an entire story about it.
I have several topics that I want to talk about. Questions and thoughts that I have about my social media addiction, the importance of music in my life, my failing feminism, my professional confusion, my urge of traveling, my quest for identity, my family taboos… And this is just a sample.
So yes, I decided to write my own story because I realised that I have things to say.
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