I'm Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself: One Woman's Pursuit of Pleasure in Paris

by Glynnis MacNicol

I once went to a museum exhibit about Einstein, and the only idea I took away from it was that movement stretches time. I don’t recall the science behind this, something to do with curvature I think. What I was left with was the understanding that the more you moved, the longer your life felt. Whether it was actually longer, I’m not sure. But every time I am behind an elderly person creeping up Broadway, or lurching their way around Zabar’s, I think of this—this determination to keep moving—and resolve to stretch more. But

What no one prepares you for as a woman is for everything to go right. When you are a woman alone, this is never even suggested as a possibility.

But inside I am aflame with gratitude that I have only myself to carry around, however heavy all these me’s might currently be.

What really irks this woman, I’ve come to realize, is that I appear to be enjoying myself. I have veered off the narrow path laid out for women to be successful in the world, and it turns out I’m fine.