Anna Klotz shares the ups and downs of making your dream come true

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Americans have held it for a long time Paris As a symbol of beauty—something expats can only scratch the surface of and not really know. This conundrum builds our sense that the culture across the ocean is somehow better—more expressive, more passionate, more dynamic—than life as we knew it in the States. Beyond romance: Our relationship with Paris– An almost legendary famous city – representing everything we long for. All the joy, happiness and possibility that seems unattainable. But Anna Klotz faced the city with sheer courage. She has built a life for herself that is not beautiful because it is perfect, but because it includes all the chaos and vulnerability required for life on the outside.

While her experience is completely unique, it is a path that resonates with many. By her mid-twenties, Anna was married, started a business, and traveled to eighty countries. But in the midst of her whirlwind, enchanted life on the outside, she despaired of regaining the voice—and the magic—and trusted that she could find it within herself again.

Anna Klotz is about resilience, reinventing, and reinventing yourself

After her marriage falls apart, Anna finds herself turning 30 with no idea how to move forward. But guided by her sense of adventure, she chooses to see the end of their relationship as an opportunity to start over. in her book, my charmAnna emerges from the loss and learns to build her own start.

Each of us carries the stories, places, and people that define the scope of our lives. Often, it is not where we are born that defines us, but the home that is built through the memories we have collected along the way. It’s the places we choose and, in many ways, the trips that choose us.

For Anna, a lot of that was found in Paris, where she now resides. “I have always considered Paris a person,” she said to me in a sad, dreamy tone. “It’s not just a city, but a person — someone I love.” To see the spaces we inhabit with such love and fondness gives us a deep attachment to our many homes. And in a way, it allows us to see magic everywhere we go.

One of the biggest themes you drew from your book was that divorce can be both the end and the beginning of something. Is this a reality that we cannot know until we have experienced it?

I think so. It’s hard when you’re in that moment of utter pain and chaos with everything crumbling around you. It can be difficult to see this as an opportunity in the midst of grief, fear and grief. And almost everyone I knew at the time didn’t go through it, so there wasn’t anyone I could talk to other than my sister.

It was a really lonely experience, but that’s part of the reason I wrote this book. It’s powerful to hear someone tell their story and to be vulnerable — unafraid to share the beautiful and messy parts. To see them come to the other side happier and stronger, having built something to be proud of, and to see this is what helps others achieve it. You see them bridge the gap and you know this loss can be an opportunity – it can’t just be the end.

You don’t have to be full of guilt, sadness, or remorse. You can simply raise a glass and say, Here’s to my new life!

There is an anecdote that I loved at the beginning of the book, where you watch several women throw a divorce party. This was in contrast to where I was emotionally at the time.

Sure, it was horrific. But later I realized just how quickly I was controlling and pointing out my belief that divorce wasn’t something to celebrate. I know now that we have the choice – after a period of mourning – to ask ourselves: What awaits me now? It is a reminder that there are good and bad things in everything. You don’t have to be full of guilt, sadness, or remorse. You can simply raise a glass and say, Here’s to my new life! And you should.

You were unapologetically yourself when you first arrived in Paris. Where did that confidence come from?

I was very young then – I was studying abroad when I first visited Paris. Somehow, I guess I just didn’t know I couldn’t be. Like when you’re a kid and you just unapologetically be yourself before people start telling you that you can’t act like this. I was so young that the concept of having to change who I was to be approved of by others just didn’t click. It wasn’t in my head yet.

I was so happy to be in Paris that I couldn’t have tried to be booked if I wanted to. And I think maybe that was the love I was shining through.

I love holding on to the parts that make me who I am.

But when I moved here permanently later, I found that I just wanted to be French. I had to have an accent, speak French, and adapt to French customs and grammar. But by the end of my third year in Paris, I realized that I didn’t want to trade in everything I was good for here. Although my accent may still sound silly, it’s me. And somehow, I don’t want to lose that. I love holding on to the parts that make me who I am.

You have been described as the real-life “Emilie in Paris”. How about a nickname that resonates with you? What are the ways to sell your experience short?

Here’s the thing about the show: It’s a fantasy. It doesn’t try to convey reality any more than other shows that glorify the city. I enjoyed portraying someone who shows up not knowing anything and having to learn the ropes. But this is where the show deviates from the truth. The friendships and family you create come here because you are building everything about your new life. When I moved abroad, my whole life started from scratch. For the first time, I was actively choosing every aspect of my day—how I wanted it to look, how I wanted to spend my time, and the kind of people I wanted to surround myself with.

It’s so easy to get stuck in our routines, but if you can change things up and move to a new place—even just a new city—it forces you to ask yourself: What do I really want?

Whereas in the fantasy show, everything is dictated to you and you have to adapt. This happens in real life too, but you also have to be very selective about the new life you build. For me, it was very rewarding and it was nice to slowly and over time create what I wanted my new life to be like.

It’s so easy to get stuck in our routines, but if you can change things up and move to a new place—even just a new city—it forces you to ask yourself: What do I really want?

How does your new relationship look different from your marriage? how You different in this relationship?

My first relationship started when I was 19, I didn’t have enough life experience – and certainly not in relationships – to determine what was really important to me. Those things that will really bring me happiness, deep, inner happiness, not just outer, superficial happiness.

Now that my marriage has fallen apart, you’re learning all kinds of lessons about what you need, what works for you, and who you are. So when I got into this new relationship, I walked into it saying, This is who I am. Whereas before, I would be whoever others wanted me to be. It’s not that I’m not willing to change and compromise, but I’m more aware of what I need and not afraid to demand it.

How do you get out of your comfort zone?

I had to make the effort. When I was 19 years old, I took a trip to Italy myself during my semester in Paris. I didn’t speak the language, I was traveling on my own, and didn’t know where I was going. As I share in the book, it all went wrong. I missed my train and ended up stuck, but it was so rewarding to make it through the challenge. I have been able to take care of myself and carry on on my own.

That experience made me realize that the unknown can lead to so many possibilities. It shaped my mind about traveling forward because I didn’t know what was going to happen. It was very interesting. Things will go wrong in life, regardless of whether you are traveling or at home. But in the future, this can lead to an amazing experience.

For women in particular, society expects us to work on a schedule. How do you feel to break it?

it’s a wonderful feeling. My social media feeds are filled with people finding love at 50 or getting their dream job at 60. Why do we place this expectation on ourselves that we have to define our lives at the age of 28?

I am so happy to be a small part of the force that breaks those stereotypes. I reinvented my whole life at the age of thirty, and now at the age of thirty-five, I am releasing that book that has always been my dream. And even though I have a boyfriend, I’m not sure if I want to get married again – that’s not my focus right now. I am happy to be happy. We need to stop telling ourselves there are time limits or expiration dates on anything. We have our whole lives, and we are allowed to reinvent ourselves all the time.

We need to stop telling ourselves there are time limits or expiration dates on anything. We have our whole lives, and we are allowed to reinvent ourselves all the time.



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