French President Emmanuel Macron and Prime Minister Elisabeth Borne speak together as they arrive to a dinner held at the Louvre in Paris, France. File/Reutes

Sacha Cohen, The Independent

The first time I came to France, I was a fresh-faced 25-year-old mademoiselle drawn to its bohemian roots, cafe culture, and romantic ethos. Visiting with my family, while they went on sight-seeing trips, I sat at Café de Flore, writing melancholy stories in my notebook. I imagined myself following in the footsteps of writers like Colette or Simone de Beauvoir and embarking on passionate entanglements that would inevitably end in heartbreak. We returned to America and I was convinced that my destiny was set. One day, I would live in France. But, as it tends to do, life got in the way. The sickness and death of my beloved mother, multiple career twists and turns, and a marriage; in what seemed like the blink of an eye, I had turned into a greying madame who was apparently still living in Arlington, Virginia and not in an atelier in Montmartre. Day-to-day life was pleasant enough, but as a woman in midlife, I was increasingly feeling undervalued and overlooked. I needed a new beginning and an exciting adventure. Our dog and cats had all died, I was pivoting back to writing, and my husband and I both had the freedom to work remotely. What was stopping us?

This spring, we stayed for nearly two months — first in Paris, and the Loire Valley and Brittany, places where we thought we might want to settle permanently. Our criteria included a place within an hour or so of Paris by TGV, not too hot, and with plenty of culture to keep us busy. Last year, we also went to Bordeaux, and that’s now at the top of our list to check out when we return in November. But the reasons why I, now aged 55, want to move to France are different than when I was younger. I feel both emotionally and physically safer in France than in the US. I appreciate the deep sense of community and “politesse”, the camaraderie, and the slower pace of life. There’s also less of an emphasis on work and more of a focus on living and pleasure.  Politics and the 2016 election forever changed me and most of my friends. France’s recent political turmoil pales in comparison to the divisiveness in the States which seems to grow more and more unhinged every day. And of course, there’s our gun culture, weekly mass shootings. The recent Trump assassination attempt is a case in point.

I also appreciate that “Les femmes d’un certain age” have a special, almost revered place in French society. Women like the recent French prime minister Élisabeth Borne, former First Lady of France Carla Bruni, and Brigitte Macron, who is 24 years older than her husband.  They are out and about on the world stage and are certainly not retreating into the background. Older women seem to have an air of taking up space and “owning it” in public spaces too — power walking and chatting in the park, having long unapologetic lunches over pitchers of cidre and riding their bikes fearlessly down narrow cobblestone streets. They have an air of confidence that says, “This is my time.” Jane Birkin, Catherine Deneuve, and Juliette Binoche are treated as heroes; wrinkles and grey hair mean you have stories to tell and experiences to share. Speaking your mind is something that is expected and celebrated. At 59, Kamala Harris may make history as the first African American woman president, but, typically, older women are not as revered in the States. In France, older women do not go gently into that bonne nuit.

Is it any wonder that midlife women are flocking to France?

I’ve talked to many 50-something expat women, and most cite the quality of life, or what the French call ‘l’art de vivre’ — the art of living — as a key reason for moving here. It also helps that healthcare is accessible and much cheaper than in the US. But also, pleasure, not puritanism, is the overarching sensibility here unlike the States, where enjoying yourself too much is typically frowned upon. In France, it’s OK to feel good and let loose, whether that’s over a decadent tarte or in the arms of a lover.  Susanna Schrobsdorff, 60, a former executive editor at Time magazine who now writes the It’s Not Just You newsletter, moved to Paris in January after leaving the intense pressures of New York’s media industry. She had lived and worked in Paris in her twenties and always felt she clicked there. “I kind of became myself in Paris all those years ago,” she says.

Once Schrobsdorff’s children graduated from college, she embarked on her new chapter in Paris and bought an apartment in Canal Saint Martin, a hipster enclave where she and her pup are already regulars at her corner cafe. “I didn’t come back to be young again but to capture a sense of awe and beauty,” says Schrobsdorff. “I wanted to come here and cleanse some of the cynicism and exhaustion that breeds in places like New York. I wanted to be a beginner again.” Lucy Whitehall, a 52-year-old coaching psychologist moved to the Gironde department in southwest France two years ago and enjoys how midlife women are generally more respected and paid attention to in France. She is from the UK, but her point of view chimes with mine. “Many women in their forties, fifties, and sixties feel they are becoming irrelevant. They are leaving the workforce in droves. In France, I get the impression that women my age are more appreciated for their wise qualities and life-learning.”

Whitehall also says that she doesn’t feel judged here in the same way she did in England. “I can wear what I like, believe what I like, and look how I want. That said, the French are very committed to self-care, so I have no problem accessing a great hairdresser, nail tech, or facialist, even in deepest rural southwest France.” On Facebook groups, there are several communities of midlife women who are looking to start over in France or who have already made the leap. Recent immigration figures show, the number of Americans settling in France has tripled since pre-pandemic years. In 2022, 12,220 cards were issued to Ameri­cans — the fourth highest nationality after people from Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia, Interior Ministry figures show, with many people citing politics as their reason for moving from the States. One group, for active women 50-plus who are interested in co-living, is led by Annamari Lammassaari, at 59 with a one-way ticket to Provence. “For me — moving to France was a prerequisite to living an inspirational and fulfilling life. L’art de vivre is something the French know better than many other cultures.” Now 65 and single, Lammassaari and her business partner Hanne Nuutinen have founded La Joie Homebase, an intentional co-living community in Provence and other locations for active, independent women 50-plus, which is expected to launch in autumn.  I’m not giving up on the US and hope that good will prevail. At the same time, I’m more convinced than ever that France is where I want to be eventually, especially now that they have succeeded in pulling back from the brink of an extreme right government. I look forward to more joie de vivre in the years ahead and living a good life in France. We only get one chance and I am going to take it.