Joy in Translation: Starting Over in Southern France

Business and Lifestyle, Columnists, Kim Somers Egelsee — By Leslie Lorraine Wing on June 2, 2025 at 11:20 pm

By Leslie Lorraine Wing

When my marriage ended and my children moved into their own beautiful lives, a stillness settled around me. After decades of living adult life in the pulse of cities — first Chicago, then Stockholm — I realized I had no idea what I sounded like in silence.

So, I moved to Marseillan, a small village in the south of France. I was 50, newly divorced, an empty nester, and a beginner in every possible way. I spoke almost no French. I knew no one. But I carried a quiet hope: that something new might grow in the space left behind.

At first, everything felt foreign — even my own voice. I stumbled through conversations at the market, relying on smiles and gestures. I bought peaches, lavender, goat cheese, and a bottle of chilled Picpoul de Pinet — not just because I needed them, but because they helped me feel like I belonged, even in my clumsy, accented beginnings.

I live now in a small stone house with a garden I’ve begun to shape myself. There’s thyme, rosemary, celery, strawberries, and a row of white roses that mark the edge of my little world. A violet flower I brought home from Meze still sits by the door, an iron day bed is in my garden that overlooks the Etage. Snails cross my entry path each morning. A chameleon visits often, uninvited but welcome. It all feels like quiet grace.

What I’ve learned is that joy no longer arrives with a bang. It drifts in gently — in the way sun warms the wall by late morning, in a new word I manage to say with confidence, in a dinner made just for me with herbs from my own hands.

Joy is a wild bird.

She perches when I’m still.

I’ve stopped trying to lure her.

Instead, I’ve left the window open.

This isn’t the life I imagined. It’s better — not because it’s perfect, but because it’s honest. It’s slow. It’s mine. And in that slowness, I’m not disappearing. I’m rooting.

You don’t have to move across the world to rediscover yourself. But you do have to make space. You have to listen. Prune what no longer serves you. Trust the quiet.

Even if it’s small.

Especially if it’s small.

Author Bio 

Leslie Lorraine is a 50-year-old American-born writer and creative living in Marseillan, France. She has travelled to 72 countries and hopes to visit 100 by 100 years old. She believes in the transformative power of stillness and starting again — at any age.