Some things aren’t meant to be seen, and that’s what makes them beautiful

There are beautiful, giant doors on almost every building here. They’re decorative and REAL. Heavy, functional, meant to close. They’re not thrown open for strangers to peer through — they’re there to control the view and entrance into the corridors and courtyards behind them.

Sometimes, you can catch a quick glimpse inside if you’re walking by just as one opens. Oh, la la!

But-

Privacy is power in France. You feel it in the way people dress — elegant but not flashy. In how they speak — very direct, but not oversharing. In their homes — layered, personal, full of stories — but it could take years before you’re invited inside.

The French don’t need to show you everything.
And they certainly don’t feel guilty for holding things back.

Somewhere along the line, we were taught that transparency equals authenticity. I’m going to write that again simply because that line means so much to me…Somewhere along the line, we were taught that transparency equals authenticity. That being “real” means being open to everyone, all the time. Vomiting out every thought or every idea in the works in an effort to show your genuineness. Telling your life’s story to the person you met at church or feeling obligated to turn around and talk to the person in line behind you at the grocery store.

I think this message if transparency equaling authenticity is especially directed at women.

I can’t put into words how much I hate that.

Even as a content creator, I choose to show reserve. The parts and angles of my life that I share are carefully selected. They are truly authentic — but selected.

What I share is meant to inspire or resonate; it’s not meant to be an open book.

(No, you may not have a video tour of my children’s bedrooms.)

-Funny? Not funny.

Even in everyday life, I’ll begin to do something like type a text message or email with the pressure or habit to “say it all”… I can’t tell you how often I delete 2/3rds of it, breathe a sigh or relief and hit send!

Note to self: You don’t have to be completely understood. You can say what you want, how you want, when you’re ready to say it, because transparency does NOT equal authenticity.

When I deep dove into French culture years ago it was this reserve that was most appealing to me. It took me a long time to understand I was a selected extrovert. I didn’t know how to take care of myself by setting quiet boundaries with extroverted people in my life that drained me to the core. I didn’t understand the visceral need to go have quiet time after an event or even an evening with family so I could recharge my batteries. I thought I was being stuck up or high maintanence.

En fait -In the right crowd (like the incredible women on this trip with me this week) I am truly energized and social, but my days of just seeking out any old social interaction are long, long gone. Praise the Lord.

• Socially responsive

• Warm once comfortable

• Reserved but resonant

Because —

There’s a kind of beauty in the undisclosed.
There’s a strength in being selective.
There’s a richness in being known by few, not many.

The French do this with such grace. And while I won’t pretend I can adopt it perfectly, I’m watching. I’m listening. I’m always learning to pull the big beautiful doors of my life closed when I need to — or when I want to.
To keep a few corners of my life lit only by candlelight — warm, quiet, mine.

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