If you look at Australian actress Melissa George‘s Instagram of her Parisian apartment, you may think it’s something you could never achieve. But you’re wrong.
The actress has built something that money can’t buy, and that every mother can give her children.
Freedom, and a peaceful home.
If nothing else, I want everyone who sees this photo to walk away with that: especially if you’re literally thinking about walking away.
In her Instagram, George explains how she came to find the apartment:
“I was given 48 hours to find a home in Paris. I went Into a real estate agency with my boys in tears saying I am not French, without work, no one to sign for the lease, etc. and I am in need of a home for us three immediately. The agent said ‘come with me’ she opened the door to my home and I fell in love,” she writes.
Yes, many women who flee with their children do so with the clothes on their back only. They don’t have the resources to make a stunning, well-furnished home within just a few months.
But the thing is, you don’t actually need a well-furnished home for it to be beautiful. All you need is freedom, peace and safety.
It sounds trite, but unless you’ve been denied that, you can’t really estimate how valuable those things are. I know, because I once lived like that. Once upon a time, I too fled in search of the freedom, peace and safety my son and I deserved.
I was given 48 hours to find a home in Paris. I went Into a real estate agency with my boys in tears saying I am not French, without work, no one to sign for the lease, etc. and I am in need of a home for us three immediately. The agent said “ come with me” she opened the door to my home and I fell in love. I then started at one end of Paris going to every single antique market ( best memories ) and even finding 18 th century desks and tables on the side of streets calling Uber and begging them to take my belongings home ! ( not one turned me down ) merci #uber and in two months I created a space that makes our spirits soar. Less is best. Perhaps my new vocation. My papa came recently and re did all my antiques as they were falling apart and now my boys can jump all over the furniture. The lamp on the left was an old coat stand that I turned into a lamp myself.
When I left, our first home was a small granny flat above someone’s garage. I remember my sister helping us move, standing in the tiny lounge with tears in her eyes.
“Don’t worry, this is good,” I reassured her. And it was. It was the happiest home we’d ever had. I was thirty-three, a lawyer, with a two year old son, living above someone’s garage: in the most beautiful home I could ever have hoped for.