I was holding hands towards my happily-ever-after and life revealed some throbbing findings. Until further notice, there would be no wedding cake, only heartbreak. After parting from my “soulmate” of 10 years, everything in my world felt brand new. Young love comes with its fair share of growing pains, still, accountability is golden. So, I left him with everything — except me.

At 27, I managed to pull myself together just enough to settle in a new place, and I promised myself a change. As Paris was always a romanticized dream of mine, I set out for the city of love…alone.

My plane landed after dark and with minutes to spare, I ran to a bank teller who slid me colorful Euros. Arms flailing, I anxiously hailed a cab. My first spectacle occurred at the top of the hour and was moments away. We pulled up and it was massive, even larger than my picture-perfect imaginings. A sign that read “Tour Eiffel” soon began gleaming from the towers’ glittery light show, and that’s when I was like — there’s a Puerto Rock in Paris. My core was filled as ever with the realization of my solo accomplishment.

Everything was far more beautiful in Paris, including the food. I indulged in the most delectable pastries and sailed on the Seine River past the Eiffel Tower, enjoying champagne and crêpes. The locals weren’t nearly as urgent as my American friends back home and took the time to enjoy Parisian menus.


Waking up on Avenue Montaigne makes the most unmovable women blush. It was as if the universe divinely arranged my retail therapy. French women devour macaroons and somehow remain lean. I walked through every boutique with thighs sized by rice and beans. 


The City of Light gave me the greatest sense of enlightenment I’d ever experienced. The Louvre Museum blew me away, Shakespeare and Company’s book selection was a writer’s ultimate fantasy come to life, and nightlife was inhibition-free and introduced me to a chivalrous Parisian wooer with eyes as blue as island water. The typical drink offer was replaced by a first-class dinner for two.

I rented the coziest flat around — with phenomenal amenities. At nearly every turn, the architecture surpassed anything I’d seen before. Paris transformed my reality: in the middle of a seemingly unbreakable spell, life gifted me a fairytale. 

By Bianca Alysse for Latina Magazine‘s 2/2017 issue and Latina.com


About The Author

Bianca Alysse is a creatively driven Bronx-born writer and editor. Before becoming The Knockturnal‘s music editor she served as Latina‘s creative coordinator and was a contributor at Billboard. The Boricua scribe has a lengthy resume in the music industry and has penned for Universal Music Publishing Group, Epic Records, G.O.O.D. Music, Compound Entertainment, Artistry & Récords, and Arcade Creative Group. Her work has been seen on platforms like VIBE, mitú, TIDAL, Remezcla, and behind the scenes at New York Fashion Week. As an independent contractor, she has written for Sony Music Entertainment’s global business affairs department, Warner Music Group, and currently Roc Nation.

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