I never really thought I’d live in Italy.
Sure, my dad was from there, but we weren’t one of those families who had dual citizenship or spent summers on the Amalfi Coast. I didn’t even speak Italian — but one opportunity changed everything.
Just over a month after my dad passed away, I’d been let go from my job and was cold-emailing brands I admired, when I landed a marketing role with an Italian beauty company.
The role offered the chance to relocate to Italy, and I thought, why not? What once felt like a distant dream suddenly became real, as if my dad was guiding me toward this new chapter in my life.
I slowly built a life in Italy, but just when I thought I had it all figured out, I lost it
I moved in July 2022 and spent my first few weeks in Pescara, Italy, (where the company’s offices were based) getting to know my team and easing into the slower pace of life.
On hot afternoons, we’d sometimes log off early and head to the beach. It was a kind of freedom and balance I’d never experienced at work before. I didn’t feel pressured to always be online, there weren’t any expectations to work weekends, and my creativity felt fed by my real life.
At the end of the month, I relocated to Rome. With little to no in-office requirements, the city seemed like a great fit for me because of its public transportation system, international connections, and lively pace. Plus, if I needed to get to Pescara, I was only a two-hour bus ride away.
Living in Rome felt easy and natural, like I’d lived there in another life. I woke up early to grab treats from my local bar (what the Italians call cafés), made friends with my neighbors, and learned where the non-touristy spots were. I also got used to the nuances of daily life in the city, from public transportation strikes to a lack of strong air conditioning.
I visited my dad’s family in Lombardy and Calabria, too. It was incredibly grounding to connect with relatives who spoke little English but welcomed me anyway. I felt closer to him than ever before, but it was hard not to be upset with the fact that he’d never taught me the language.
Although I’d made an effort to practice speaking with my family, took dozens of classes, and subscribed to Babbel, there were still plenty of moments when I struggled to keep up with the pace of conversations at work or sound competent at the post office.
It was intimidating, but over time, I pushed through the discomfort, asked questions when I was unsure, and slowly started to pick up more of the language. Day by day, I built a quiet resilience and confidence I hadn’t expected.
Then, just when I thought I’d found my groove — I’d gotten my residency permit, was seemingly thriving at work, and wassettling into a new friend group — I learned my contract was not being renewed due to budget cuts, and I wasn’t the only one affected.
Without a job, dual citizenship (my dad completely naturalized as a US citizen, preventing me from gaining automatic Italian citizenship), or a financial safety net, I couldn’t stay.
So, I had to pack up the life I’d built and return to the US in January 2025.
For now, I’m back in the States and grieving the version of myself I’d found abroad
Now, I’m inNew York City, working full-time, and freelancing as I try to hold onto the version of myself I’d become in Italy — the person who understood that life doesn’t always need to be rushed or optimized.
But it’s not easy. Returning here has felt like starting over and trying to find my footing in a place where everyone seems to be running at a relentless pace.
So, I’m trying my best to make it back to Italy on my own terms. I’m working hard to secure my status as a dual citizen, but I’m not sure how long it will take.
Through it all, though, I’m proud of myself for reconnecting with my heritage and chasing this dream.
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