Five lessons France taught me about friendship
And how those lessons have shaped so many other parts of my life.
Bonjour Les Amis - welcome back..
This past week we fête’d 14 Juillet* — just ten days after the 4th of July. I love that these two national holidays sit so close together on the calendar, just as France and the U.S. have sat so close, for so many years.
Each year, and this one in particular, the celebrations of the holiday period prompted me to reflect on all the things these two countries have in common, and of course, all the things they don’t.
No matter their vast distance, no matter their many differences (and I have a running list of those!), for hundreds of years, they have managed to maintain a special amitié —friendship. It is a beautiful lesson on how we can be opposite in so many ways, yet still have mutual admiration and fondness for each other.
Friendship reigns large in my mind. Not just the concept of, but the practice. It’s a subject I frequently return to.
We are each a product of our experiences, so it’s no surprise that several factors influence how I have received these lessons on friendship. One of the main experiences has been moving to a new country alone and trying to construct a semblance of family, a chosen one.
And then, of course, there are all the other items we carry in our baggage as we travel through life. For me, they are: 1) being an only child, 2) being an introvert and rather private, 3) leaving my home (and country) at a young age, and 4) spending, except for one year, my adult life in Europe, with a large portion here in Paris.
And perhaps the most challenging one of all, I continue to change.
It’s fair to say thanks to all of that, I’ve had to repeatedly face the challenge of forming friendships.
No matter where you live or travel to, developing and maintaining friendships isn’t a French problem or an American one — it’s a human one. (BTW, it’s time we normalize how darn difficult it is to make friends, genuine friends, especially as adults.)
French social norms have shaped some of my friendship lessons over the years, while others have emerged from my outsider’s perspective as an American, and some have resulted from a combination of the reasons I mentioned above.
No matter the case, these lessons haven’t just impacted how I build friendships and relationships, but they have had a broader impact on the rest of my life.
*Locals will never say Bastille Day. It is either Quatorze-Juillet OR Fête Nationale
Five lessons France taught me about friendship:
1) There are Copains and there are Amis.
Over coffee with a French friend, we were discussing someone in her life. She began by calling the person an amie (it was a female - ami would be for a male), but halfway through she corrected herself: “Actually, she’s more of a copine than an amie.”
This minor correction was enormous. Even though I kind of already knew, I couldn’t help but ask her what she meant. Both terms, loosely speaking, mean ‘friend’, but in the end, they are very different.
A copain or copine is someone you genuinely like and might even see often. You’ll see them for coffee, drinks, and outings. But that’s mostly where it stays. It’s pleasant, but probably not personal.
An ami or amie, is something else entirely. There is a deep, profound, almost unshakeable relationship that transcends all the seasons you travel through. It’s someone to whom you can tell things you may not have admitted to yourself.
France, in all its nuances, has taught me that “friend” is as layered as the word l’amour. The meanings vary.
It’s wonderful to have a mix of both. Admittedly, my list of amis is small, and I’m more than okay with that. As the saying goes, I’d rather have four quarters than a hundred pennies.
**Ami/Amie/Amis (masculine/feminine/plural) **Copain/Copine/Copains (masculine/feminine/plural) - I could have written a whole piece on the nuances of these words! Keep in mind that these words are often interchangeable! No need to get worried if someone you consider a close ami calls you a copain! It could just be the context and circumstance of the discussion,
FYI - speaking of nuance, a Copain/Copine and ‘petit ami’/’petite amie’ can also signify a boyfriend/girlfriend, in the romantic sense!
2) The ‘Ami list’ has people on it you can call to share ‘good’ news.
I have been thinking about this ever since I heard a conversation between Simon Sinek and Trevor Noah about the topic of loneliness.
An ami is the person you don’t hesitate to call with your good news.
There is no embarrassment, no hesitation, no fear of judgement, no feeling like you are bragging, and certainly no dimming your light. You know that they will be genuinely and sincerely happy, if not happier, for you than you may be for yourself.
They would expect that you share your highs; those highs are theirs to celebrate too! They feel just as implicated in celebrating your wins as they do in feeling pain for your failures.
These are the people with whom you trust your joy, and that kind of friend is rare.
3) Honesty is everything
In all cases, this should be a pillar of any relationship, but one of the things I’ve come to deeply appreciate about my French friends is their commitment to honesty. It may be more franc (frank) than I am ready to hear, but I always appreciate and accept it. Whether it's telling me that my meal is bland, or my outfit doesn’t suit me, or that I look tired…I’m ready to hear it, especially when it is something deeply important.
I accept it because I know it pains them as much to say it as it pains me to hear it. I accept it because I know sometimes the hardest thing to do is to be honest - I mean, really honest.
It’s a precious thing to have people who will risk an uncomfortable conversation for the sake of care. To me, that is rare and valuable, and in France, I’ve found it to be a litmus test for lasting friendships.
If you want to build friends here, speaking the verité (truth) is paramount. If you give people the impression that you’re hiding something, not straightforward, or lacking integrity to tell the truth, you won’t have them around for long.
One of the worst things someone could say (in my opinion) is: “Elle n’est pas nette.”
It’s slang that you’d likely hear in an informal setting, and it translates into “She is not clean.” However, the real meaning suggests a lack of transparency, sincerity, trustworthiness, and honesty.
We are in the country of debate; having a strong counter opinion and the conviction to stand behind it is better than lacking the courage to speak it, or worse, being deceitful about it.
Honesty is hard, but it is a character builder. And my French folks love a bit of character.
4) My French friends taught me that relationships are contextual, and that is ok.
Over time, I’ve come to understand and respect the role of boundaries and the context of relationships in French social life. Not every relationship can (or should) evolve into something more profound or more personal.
A work colleague is very likely to stay just a work colleague. A professional contact is very likely to remain just a professional contact.
I have had to learn, the hard way, that a warm and friendly interaction doesn’t automatically grant me access to someone’s personal world…and certainly not if our connection is professional.
Trying to force any relationship into a personal one can be seen as ‘mal éduqué’ (literally meaning someone who is ‘badly educated’… someone with poor etiquette). Whether or not I have harmless intentions is never in question. In a country where privacy and discretion are paramount, asking probing personal questions can be intrusive, and worse, offensive.
I have also come to appreciate that these boundaries don’t weaken my relationships; they actually make them stronger. I’ve been able to build intimate, respectful relationships that span many years, simply because I learned to respect personal boundaries.
5) Time, persistence, and sincerity are how you make friends. Caring for them is how you keep them.
When people ask me how to make friends in Paris, the only honest answer I can give is: time, persistence, and genuine interest. French friendships are not transactional; they are not transient. They take time and are built in sincerity.
In France, there’s no such thing as “fast friends.” The title of Ami carries weight. It’s like the equivalent of a boulangerie. It’s earned, it’s protected, and it’s certainly not handed out lightly.
If you want a glimpse into how French friendships are formed, I recommend reading Le Petit Prince. The fox’s lesson on “taming” tells you everything you need to know about how friendships are born.
And once they are born, like anything, they need attention. Caring for any relationship takes the same amount of time, persistence, and sincerity as it does to create it.
And when you do create it, a dear friend is one of the most important relationships you will be blessed with.
Five ways French friendship lessons have shaped other parts of my life
1) I’ve learned the power of community
When you are trying to reconstruct a life, community connections are everything. They do not replace a close friend, nor are they meant to; however, they often provide a sense of belonging. We all know how fundamental belonging is, especially today when so many people feel disconnected.
The real magic lies in finding the right community to be a part of. In the right setting, these community spaces allow you to share, connect, and not only learn about others, but also learn about yourself. I have come to appreciate how these communities can emerge from the most unlikely places (including online), so I try to remain curious and open to them.
This is precisely why I started GenerateHER retreats for women.
2) I allow things to emerge in their own time
I'm often eager to make things happen quickly, but I've learned to understand the difference between persistence and force. This lesson has been a gift professionally.
I don’t expect colleagues to become confidants, and I’ve stopped feeling guilty when relationships (and ideas!) don’t evolve into more. Instead, I focus on respecting the role someone or something plays in my life, which may just be to teach me a particular lesson.
It’s been a tough road, but I have learned to try and see a situation for what it is, not for what I want to see. This has helped me avoid unnecessary disappointment or awkwardness in both work and personal dynamics.
3) I’ve embraced being an archaeologist
Developing anything in France, including relationships, is like a National Geographic archaeology dig. It’s done with subtle and slow brush strokes, not forceful digging. Slowly developing relationships have taught me that speed and force are not my allies.
I know better than to believe in overnight success, and I'm more accepting of long arcs. I know that the most meaningful things, trust, expertise, reputation, success, and yes, friendships, take time. And they should.
Despite my frustrations, I try to accept time as my best friend, knowing that one day, I will appreciate the time things took.
As Voltaire says, “Le temps adoucit tout.” Time softens everything.
4) I see honesty as a form of respect (and love)
I challenge myself to be honest, even in the most difficult situations. I know that honesty is the shortest path to building trust.
French-style honesty has taught me to be forthright with what I say - to be clear (being clear is being kind - thanks to Brené Brown for this).
To speak the truth, even when it's uncomfortable, in all my relationships —both personal and professional —has helped me establish trust, respect, and love.
Being truthful has saved me from relationships, opportunities, and circumstances that were not meant for me.
5) I take to heart: time, persistence, and sincerity
France has profoundly impacted my mindset, both socially, emotionally, and professionally. I challenge myself to spend less time chasing popularity or approval (and this is an everyday battle with the pressure we all have), and more time being persistent and sincere, whether it's building a business, developing an idea, or forming a friendship.
I won’t profess to be the perfect friend, not at all. I fall short of the people I am lucky enough to call amis. But I have learned some valuable things along the way. I have discovered that, putting aside the ‘French factor’, challenges with making friends aren’t just about geography and culture. It’s also about growth.
We all change and evolve, and I think that is one of the fundamental reasons why developing and maintaining friendships require relearning, including the one we have with ourselves.
We often discuss the health of relationships, and in any situation where we assess health, we must start by assessing the patient zero - ourselves.
A question I ask myself, and I hope you do the same: Are we kind, patient, caring, truthful, supportive, respectful, and loving with ourselves?
Perhaps my greatest friendship lesson over the years is that you don’t have to move countries to find your true amis.
But you might need to move closer to yourself.
Until next time, a prompt I’ll leave you with:
What type of friend are you? Most importantly, to yourself?
See you next time. Á bientôt, mes amis.
Jane
A few last things:
If you want to work on yourself and your community here in Paris, join me:
My GenerateHER retreat this November is La Vendange - The Harvest. We are going to do deep work on your Jardin Secret.
If you want to see my view of life in Paris, join me on my podcast:
I’m taking a summer pause to work on Season 2…let me know what you’d like us to talk about! You can find more here.
Your writing is nourishment for my soul.
Thank you again for a retrospective article Jane, amazing and all true! We need to start from our own nucleus identifying our values and authenticity and how we desire to live our precious life and who we wish to share this with.