(PT 1) 13 Years Ago I Met A Shirtless Frenchman Named PAris
👩❤️💋👨 13 years together. 8 years married. And it all started with a concert, some truly questionable dancing, and a very confident French man putting MY hands on HIS abs. 💀
This is Part 1 of our love story.
Paired with some awful, grainy college photos 😅
Featuring drinks in hand, bad decisions, and the kind of moments you don’t realize are life-changing until way later.
His name was “Paris” (it wasn’t).
The abs were abbing.
The Frenchness was real. The accent was not.
It was messy, ridiculous, and somehow perfect 🥰
So what have we been up to since that absurdly beginning?
Part 2 coming next Sunday!
