On top of the world

The first time I stood on top the Eiffel tower, I began to cry. Despite the smile that stretched across my face, the tears couldn't be helped – they were endless.
Looking over the Champ de Mars and the Seine River winding through cafes and Parisian apartments, I knew that this was the moment I had been waiting for my whole life.
One of the first defining moments of my life happened at the age of four. My mother will tell you of the day where I looked up at her and said, “Mommy when I grow up, I’m going to live in France and be an author, because that’s where I will find my inspiration.” Her jaw dropped. What four-year-old knows what France is or even what the word inspiration means, she thought. Where could she have learned this?
Although travel was out of our financial bounds, my family did what they could to bring me as close to Paris as possible. I had stacks of books and photos of the city and I had tried every type of cheese and bread with the label “France.” It wasn't until I was 19, after working and saving for a year, that I made it to France with my sister.
Upon arriving, I was too full of anticipation to be of any help to my sister, who flipped through maps, trying to figure out which of the 14 plus Metro lines we were nearest to. I didn’t care if we were lost, as long as we were in Paris!
Seeing Montmartre, the Louvre, the cobble-stoned winding streets among markets and cafes was heavenly for me. But I was still waiting for that magical moment to tell me, “I wasn’t wrong all this time…I truly do belong here.”
It wasn’t until near the end of our trip that we finally made our way up the Eiffel tower. The sky was blanketed with thick grey clouds, thunder clapping closer toward us as we made our way to the top. My sister and I shivered in our summer clothes, our thin scarves wrapped loosely around our heads as we were barely able to speak through chattering teeth. I pushed my way to the railing through the other tourists and leaned over. There it was: the City of Lights that I had known so well from a distance. Everything I had dreamed of was right below and I felt it. I could feel the history, the beauty; every famous artist and writer who had ever come here feeling the same as I did. Call it a cliché if you like, but that moment was everything to me. That was when I realized all my determination to get here was not a silly fantasy, but it was real. I knew then, Paris is where I am meant to be.