Monday July 4, 11:53 pm, Independence Day

Historically this day has always made me feel uncomfortable. As a young girl, it was spent with family at parties and barbecues. I never felt any personal compulsion to celebrate Independence Day; it was only second on the list of annual occasions for extended family to get together (Easter was first).

While I enjoyed spending time with favorite cousins, aunts and uncles, I saw no point in partying (as best as a 7, 8, 9 year old could) in the pool with people I barely ever saw and for an occasion which held no personal importance. Maybe it was because I didn't learn how to swim without a floaty life vest until I was age 8, and then when I finally did, it meant full exposure of my tummy. I was expected to wear a tankini, which was even more mortifying every time I looked down and saw the wet spandex stretched over the belly button it was supposed to conceal. As I grew older I learned that it was more convenient to forget my swim suit at home, my sincerest regrets.

I had spent every single Fourth of July with family up until high school. Even when I knew about a party or was invited to one (those were often separate instances), I doubted whether I should attend or not. Apart from it being an opportunity to hang out with friends, I didn't see much reason. Yes, I am American, but only by citizenship; I felt more a product of my bi-cultural household than the country whose laws I obeyed and corporations I blindly supported. It pains me to think of the plethora of patriotic outfits I bought and didn't wear. I think I sported the same high-waisted shorts and crop top three years in a row.

I am only in my second year as an "adult" living "free" in the world, but I have gained an understanding of independence closer to the original meaning celebrated by the Founding Fathers, not interchangeable with chugging beer and playing with explosives. But I do not take for granted the modern freedoms my country allows me. I believe our government was intended to encourage mobility, not without hardship, but free of many of the restraints placed by other countries on their citizens.

That is why I am sitting pantsless and cross-legged on my bed in Paris, feeling a bit misty off of cheap wine and eating Nutella by the spoonful. This, I feel, is truly my first Independence Day.