Are you French when you sign your first lease rather than just subletting from someone since your garant lives in another country?
Are you French when you become plus ou moins fluent in the language?
Are you French when you prefer sparkling water to still?
Are you French when you have a carte vitale?
Are you French when you go skiing (almost) every winter?
Are you French when you see an acquaintance from home (the U.S) and your reflex is to do the faire la bise rather than hug?
Are you French when you have a permis de conduire and it’s marked that you can drive a manual?
Are you French when you eat yogurt for dessert?
Are you French when someone makes a reference from Le père Noël est une ordure and you get it?
Are you French when your shoes are from Éram, your lingerie is from Etam, your clothes are from Naf Naf (or Claudie Pierlot in your dreams), and your skin products are from La Roche-Posay?
Are you French when someone hums the tune of an Indochine song and you recognize it?
Are you French when you pay for your groceries or restaurant meals with Ticket Restaurant?
I may have done some but not all of those things, but it wouldn’t change anything. Even if I got the holy grail, French citizenship, I would never consider myself French, even if its something I want to be terribly. One day I told my boyfriend that when I met my new roommate, he could tell by the way I hesitated and said the word “Oui…” that I wasn’t French. As I acted perplexed, he responded that I had a manner about me that was obviously not French. I took that as a major insult but he said it was supposed to be a compliment. “You’re unique. Why do you want to be French when you can be something else?”