A Thanksgiving Reflection with Maison d'Amies

Thanksgiving has always been a moment to pause, take a deep breath, and look around at the life I’m building. This year, that reflection feels deeper than ever, because Maison d’Amies (once just a fragile little dream) is now something real, something rooted, something I’m profoundly proud of.

When this journey began, it was simple: I wanted to see more of France and share my love for travel, culture, food, and the slower rhythms of life with other women. I imagined intimate gatherings, long tables filled with laughter, farmers’ markets, easy mornings with coffee in hand, and that indescribable feeling of being both cared for and completely yourself.

But imagining it and building it are two very different things.

And as my very hardworking husband, the person who has watched me brainstorm, build, fail, learn, and try again, always says:“Ideas are shit. Execution is what really matters.”

And he’s right. Because Maison d’Amies exists today not because I dreamed it, but because I built it. Piece by piece, conversation by conversation, retreat by retreat.

But before the execution… came the vulnerability.

Trying something new is terrifying. There’s a tenderness to that moment where you dare to say a dream out loud, that thin, fragile second where possibility and fear collide. And for me, that moment is seared into my memory: sitting across from my husband over a pint of Guinness, hands wrapped around the glass for courage, whispering the dream of Maison d’Amies for the first time.

It was equal parts exhilarating and nauseating. But it was also the first step.

And somehow… I did it.

Maison d’Amies has become a space where women arrive carrying the weight of their lives, the responsibilities, the expectations, the constant tending-to-everything, and they immediately exhale. They settle. They laugh. They nap without apologizing. They linger over meals. They let someone take care of them for a change.

We’ve carved out something rare: a retreat that feels luxurious but never stuffy, thoughtful without taking itself too seriously, warm without being sappy, and designed entirely for women who want to feel joy, rest, curiosity, and connection. It’s the kind of place I needed years ago, and I’m grateful every day that I get to offer it to others now.

But here’s the part of the story I didn’t expect, the part I’m most grateful for this year:

The partnerships. The people. The welcome I found in France.

When I started, I was nervous. I was an American working in a country and a business culture that weren’t mine. My French is improving (slowly and imperfectly) and I bring mostly American women with me. These women are joyful, excited-to-be-here, occasionally loud, endlessly curious.

And yes… sometimes that energy is a lot.

I worried I might be met with resistance.

Instead, I was met with open arms.

French partners who champion my retreats (I see you La Maison Pomme!). Local artists who greet my groups with the biggest smiles. Chefs who treat me like family (Thank you Jon!). Homeowners who trust me with their properties. And neighbors who understand exactly how hard it is to start something in a place that’s not your own.

And while France has welcomed me beautifully, I’m also so deeply lucky in another way: I’m surrounded by people back home who champion me, share the story of Maison d’Amies, and cheer for me with every little victory. Every message, every referral, every “You’ve got this” has held me up in ways they’ll never fully understand.

Maison d’Amies may have started as a dream to help women see more of France… but what I’ve gained is the gift of being supported. By my French partners, by the women who travel with me, and by the community at home who believes in this even on the days I doubt myself.

This Thanksgiving, I feel deeply grateful for every woman who has trusted me with her vacation, every partner who has welcomed me into their world, and every person who has helped this dream grow legs.

To everyone who has supported Maison d’Amies, whether by joining a retreat, sharing our story, partnering with me, or cheering from the sidelines, merci. With all my heart, merci.

Here’s to more connection, more courage, more vulnerability, more cross-cultural magic, and more shared meals under the French sun in the years to come.