With this post, I risk people not agreeing with me, but that’s okay. If this sparks discussion, debate, and helps others to think from a different perspective, I am all for it.
I did not know Women’s Day existed until I came to Italy. I grew up in a country where we get time off for presidents, activists, veterans, and military, but the closest thing to Women’s Day I was familiar with was Mother’s Day. And to me, that day grew tense with each passing year.
As my mother succumbed more and more to her mental illness, I resented the fact that there was a day to celebrate her. In my teenage mind, she didn’t deserve it. I would see her verbally and emotionally abuse my father every day without fail, yet, my father would still ask my sister and I to make her a card, and he’d still show up with a bouquet of flowers just to show her he cared.
Despite his kind intentions, she would always find a reason to be suspicious of him. Or yell at him because he bought the flowers from Albertson’s instead of Raley’s.
And when Father’s Day came around? She never did anything special for him. It was up to my sister and I to let our father know we cared. That we needed him and loved him for sticking around.
When I think back to my high school days, I can’t imagine how much psychological torment he had to internalize. There would be nights she would be triggered by the simplest things. If she began yelling at me or my sister, our father would be ready, like a superhero with his shield, ready to deflect her anger from us towards him.
It would give us some modicum of peace to finish homework, but to hear her berate him for hours and hours into the night was not something my sister and I were comfortable with.
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Even with these tense family dynamics, I still grew up a “staunch feminist”. Perhaps it was my mom’s unsubstantiated opinions of men that were ingrained in me for years, but the “men are evil, fear them” “mantra” I grew up with was hard to shake off—until I learned to listen and understand the other side.
When I first met my boyfriend in Italy and we were learning about each other, I shared something nonchalantly on social media that upset him:
It was supposed to be a hit at women in my circle who hinted that I need to live in fear and carry pepper spray, but the way I phrased my stance was a hit at all men, and that wasn’t fair. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but seeing how upset it made him feel led me to probe further discussions with him about the topic, which is something I am immensely appreciative for.
These discussions made me realize that gender equality is an extremely convoluted topic that is constantly vacillating from one side to the other. It shouldn’t be about prioritizing one group over another if the goal is equality, yet if we prioritize Women’s Day with flowers and protests, and laugh off Men’s Day (which, by the way is November 19th) as a “creation of jealous men”, we will never achieve the equality we all say we are striving for.
Yes, there are a lot of places in this world where men have a powerful influence and women are stripped of their rights. In South Asian countries and places with similar cultural ideals, this is a huge issue. The recent, artfully-crafted Malayalam movie, Great Indian Kitchen, demonstrated this eloquently.
But even in these cultures, men still suffer. In the South Asian space, Ram of @desi_brotherhood shares relevant information via Instagram feed posts in an unbiased way, and has shared a number of posts regarding domestic violence, mental health, and suicide issues that affect South Asian women and men.
Compared to South Asia, the overall context is different in the Western world. Even though domestic violence is rampant, especially without a doubt in the USA, women in the Western world still do experience a lot more freedoms compared to women of other countries. When I see the stereotypical “Karen” complain more than she should about how “men need to be the providers”, it does irritate me. These are the same women who claim they are independent, self-sufficient, and strong, yet expect “their man” to be the breadwinner and foot the bill of their shopping sprees because “they deserve it!”. This then leads to some men using these women as excuses for not supporting women’s rights, and it ends up being a vicious cycle.
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My intent with this post is not to divert attention from Women’s Day, but to serve as a reflection. I have only a handful of women in my life who I love with all my heart. Who deserve everything beautiful in this world because they truly do deserve it, but there are men in my life who deserve just the same.
So while today is a good day to celebrate women, our love for them, and their achievements, let’s be kind, thoughtful, and empathetic women and do the same for the amazing men in our lives when it’s their turn.
At the end of the day, we shouldn’t be celebrating the chromosomes one carries, but rather the individual those chromosomes serve as roots for.
As a millennial, I am oftentimes torn between feeling proud of my current “status” in life, or deeply disappointed.
It’s hard for me to remind myself that I lived an incredibly rich life before my Italy adventure. Good moments that led to trying ones, that eventually led to powerful recoveries and maturity.
But, little did I know that the Italy adventure I envisioned would dismantle within weeks from when I got the tattoo. The pandemic delayed my start, but once I did get the greenlight to go, things eventually got crazy.
These were initially unwanted feelings that I eventually embraced. And while things did eventually sort themselves out, I left 2021 a heavily-changed person:
I used to love the idea of being a nomad. Since moving out for grad school in 2014, I’ve been associated with eight different addresses. With my initial move to Italy, I welcomed the three years abroad that were initially ensured under my research fellowship. I actually thought life would be so much better here, but…
As months slowly drudged on by, I realized that perhaps I should be wanting “normal” life things, like a stable residence and job. Jumping around labs in the world of academia, even if the research was great and the experience was enriching, could never match what a standard industry job could offer. I realized my desire for a 401k was taking priority over feverishly publishing papers to add to my CV.
An emotionally-numbing experience in academia abroad, during one of the worst (psychological) periods of humanity, soured my first stint in Italy, but escaping academia and finding a home in industry saved me. Despite miraculously finding a suitable, more-welcoming job, this experience has undoubtedly shaken me in regards to being confident about my purpose. It has made me question if I truly love what I do, or if I chose this path because it was “safe” and “not so controversial”, say, compared to the desire of wanting to become a Hollywood celebrity 😂.
But at least while I ruminate over these thoughts, I can continue to appreciate and enjoy the relative calmness and kindness 2022 has granted (my) life with.
Circumstances with my new job have allowed me with an interesting opportunity—while waiting for my visa, I’m splitting my time between Houston and Milan. One month here, One month there. One month of Dad’s Bru, one month of vending machine cappuccinos.
And knowing that my role will be heavily involved with North America while being based out of Italy? On paper, it’s like the best of both worlds.
But at the same time, I am having trouble understanding what my true passions are at this point. What is my purpose even?
The stability of my new job has allowed me to approach my past passions with more motivation, but at the same time, I doubt myself in regards to what I can accomplish, and what I want to accomplish:
With running, when will I be running at an elite runner’s pace? A goal stifled as early as late 2017?
How will I know if my writing projects will get anywhere? I don’t want to write “just for fun”. For me, I want it to lead to something greater…
Will I really pick up Italian “with time” like a random guy at work said I would? Or am I too exhausted (and scared, of failing) to even try?
Like anyone in this world, I want to be validated, appreciated, respected, and loved. Figuring out how to achieve all this is the hard part. I’m turning 30 in a few months, and I would be lying if I didn’t say that scares me. I looked at a random savings calculator online and I supposedly have the “right” amount saved in the bank for my age, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m making the right investments, or if my choice to continuously rent is wise or risky in this market.
Growing up, and getting older is never easy, but at least the detour I took in recent months has benefited my mental health tremendously. And if I learned anything from these recent experiences, there is only so much I can control. And I think escaping toxic workplaces and minimizing time on mind-numbing social media platforms is a good thing.
Putting 2022 in cruise control seems like a wise enough decision to me.
My mom had full control of my fashion choices until I was 16 years old. Understandably so, since as a kid, you are financially dependent on your parents.
If your parents are comfortable with the offerings of JCPenney, Target, and Wal-Mart, you oblige…especially since the next unarguable option would be a potato sack (perhaps in my desi girl case, a basmati rice sack 😅).
I have to be fair and say my mom did have good taste in kid’s clothing. Every morning before school, my ritual was as follows: get out of bed, wash up, and grab the clothes mom picked out for me off the staircase railing.
I also didn’t care for fashion in elementary school. Shorts and a tee purchased from the attraction of our last family vacation were comfy to throw on in the summer. Cute character sweaters (such as those with a Powerpuff Girls or Disney princesses applique) paired with velour pants were perfect for chilly NorCal winters. And to think there was a time I could care less about these things? Oh, the innocence of youth…
I became more aware and self-conscious about my fashion once the beautiful (🙄) days of middle school came along. It was when I began to notice big, bold brands plastered across the chests of my enlightened peers.
Hollister. Abercrombie. Aeropostale. American Eagle. Roca Wear. Baby Phat. “Surfer” brands from PacSun. Just to name a few and reveal my age 😅.
I also began to notice the jean pocket trademarks of said brands. Hollister had this waterfall arch-looking design. Abercrombie’s looked like a compressed candy wrapper. And it seemed like every girl except me was wearing something from these brands everyday.
As much as I desired to get my parents to take me to Abercrombie to refresh my wardrobe and save me from my middle school “dweeb” fate, I knew entering the store would be a hurdle in itself. Having half- naked models plastered all over the storefront would definitely deter most parents of middle-school aged children from going inside with their kids 🤷🏽♀️
So I waited it out, and by the time I was 16, I had done my research. I signed up for an eBay account, counted up my saved birthday/Christmas money up until that point, and stalked designer jeans forums for good deals on “higher end staple pieces”. I told my mom I wanted to take control of my closet from that point on, and while it was a battle at first, I eventually won.
In my senior year of high school, I only owned jeans from brands I liked—American Eagle, Aeropostale, Hollister, and I successfully added two pairs of True Religion jeans to my closet, one of which I bought for $30 new with tags when they ran at that time from $80-90 retail on most occasions. I was ecstatic.
I slowly incorporated pieces I liked with the money I had, and was able to sell some non-JCPenney pieces (lol) on eBay to keep my “account for clothes” rolling. It was then, at that age, I decided on a golden rule for my clothing purchases I follow to this day:
“One in, one out”
I realized that I didn’t need to have 20 pairs of jeans or 10 Hollister sweatshirts (although back then, I probably would have loved that!). I began to track all the pieces of clothing I had in an Excel sheet, and eBay was always my go-to when I was ready to sell something, or pick up a second-hand Hollister item for cheap, and so as to avoid entering the storefront of half-naked white people with my parents 😬.
When I did get to college though, I was able to rake in some spending money of my own that allowed me to not just rely on profits I made from reselling clothing. I was able to find part-time work during summers, at school, and during my gap year before starting graduate school. My stint at a J. Crew Outlet for a couple months and Kate Spade for the summer before grad school blessed me with some major discounts—like, here are two “free” Kate Spade dresses for onboarding 🙀.
Once I got to grad school, my income was steady enough that I didn’t have to rely on reselling all of my clothes when I was ready to shift my wardrobe around. I was able to donate good-quality clothing and replace it with such, again, keeping in mind of my “one in, one out” rule.
I feel like this “rule” has helped me be mindful of my spending, as well as practice that concept of “sustainability” that major clothing companies are talking about only now 🙄. I guess it’s why I don’t understand the Italian idea of “cambio di stagione”, the idea of switching out one’s entire summer wardrobe for winter and vice versa as the seasons change. My mind would go crazy keeping track of all that clothing, and if you think about it, most of us only really cycle through a small portion of our closet consistently.
Do you really need five winter jackets? Or 20 stilettoes?
During the height of the pandemic, I wasn’t too concerned about my closet since I was moving abroad, working in a lab where fashion was extremely casual (i.e. no one cares), and didn’t really have the desire to change my wardrobe. When I was offered a more “professional” job in late 2021, I realized that I’d need to swap out some leggings for dress pants, and casual tees wouldn’t cut it anymore…and since I had to return to the US for January, I decided it would be the perfect time to put on my “seller’s cap” once more.
I got a head start with taking pictures of clothes I planned to sell as I was packing up in Italy. Once I flew back to the US, I did the following:
1) I listed on my tried and true eBay and a new-to-me platform called Mercari. Surprisingly made some sales for higher than expected on the latter!
2) I sold most of my clothes at consignment stores that buy directly from the customer immediately, like Plato’s Closet, Uptown Cheapskate, Buffalo Exchange, and Style Encore. Lucky for me, Houston and Austin has a lot of franchises of these brands. The pay-out is much lower than you’d think, but it’s a quick way to change out your clothes if that’s the goal.
3) Before I head back to Italy, I plan to send leftover items to ThredUp, an online consigner that allows you to mail in bulk. I don’t expect a high pay-out from them either, but at least I know the clothing I send in will have a second life, either resold or sustainably donated.
In my experience, I’ve found it very difficult to resell clothes in Italy. I’ve tried eBay and their version of Mercari, Vinted, but I never got bites on my listings, at least to the extent I get in the US. It’s either buy high-end Gucci Gucci Gucci, or buy really low at street markets…not a fan of either, since one is overpriced and the other is fast fashion, but in reality, the responsibility to be sustainable is on us.
I look at my closet a lot more differently ever since learning about Chile’s clothing desert, and I think all of us should. Even when it comes to donation, I try to make sure whatever I donate goes to a reputable source where the clothing will be reworn or sent to a facility for textile recycling.
Just because a piece of clothing disappears from your closet, doesn’t mean it’s disappearedinto thin air…
My first race in Italy was also my first race after a long hiatus from marathon racing, the peak of the COVID pandemic, and outside of the United States. With all of these “firsts” involved, no wonder my race day experience was a rocky one!
But before hashing the details on that, it might help to describe the steps (forward and back), in the months prior…
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Prior to COVID, I imagined my first race in Italy would be the Milano Marathon in April 2020, thinking that I would have been settled in my new city a few months prior. Obviously, plans changed for everyone, but I decided to get back to some form of training, even if I didn’t have a specific race to motivate myself for.
In 2021, I thought about Milan again. My training for the race was touch-and-go, but mentally I was ready. I was hitting my goal pace on fast runs and relishing the brisk, cold winter air that made my lungs burn, but my body feel as light as a feather.
I soon learned that the Milano Marathon wouldn’t be open to the public in 2021 either, thanks to the unfortunate occurrence of Italy’s second COVID lockdown…the restrictions for which weren’t lifted until summer hit. When June rolled around, I was ready to take my chances again—I decided to seriously consider an Italian marathon to race in for Fall 2021.
I’ve run a countless number of races since 2013, ranging from 5ks to marathons. And out of all those races, absolutely zero were run outside of the good ol’ USA 😅. I mean, it makes sense since I was either an undergrad student living at home while going to school, or a graduate student with an insane lab schedule that prevented me from jet-setting to exotic locales for a “mere hobby”.
Since my experience with racing has only been limited to the US, there were a few preliminary steps that were new to me when I registered for my first Italian race:
1. I had to register for the RunCard – basically a “membership fee” that lasts a year to participate in Italian-based races. If you are an elite/professional runner, this membership can be subbed-in with a professional running club membership. Given that I don’t see myself staying in Italy long-term, I haven’t bothered looking into professional clubs…I’m kinda hoping I make my comeback while I am living in Italy though, so I can return to the US in tip-top elite shape 😉 (you know, those #LongTermGoals)!
2. I had to get medical clearance.Wait what? It seemed as though this requirement is to protect Italian race organizers. In the US, you simply sign a waiver saying you won’t sue. In Italy, they literally screen you out so there is no question of suing 😅.
So in mid-June, I ended up going to S. Gottardo “Centro Medicina dello Sport” in Milan to get my tests done, so I could get a certificate to participate in long-distance running events (on my certificate it said “atletica leggera“) like marathons and half marathons.
My tests included the basics (blood pressure, height, weight, urine analysis…which by the way, in Italy you need to hand deliver to the doctor him/herself 😝) as well as some weird, ancient tests like spirometry (basically assessing lung function by measuring how much air you can breathe out in one forced breath) and a step test that really gets your heart going for an EKG.
Once I bought the run card and got my med certifications, I was able to upload it onto the website where I registered for the Verona Marathon (TDS) and I received an email once my documents were approved.
At that point, I felt comfortable with my registration and training plan, and braced myself for a hot and sweaty summer in Northern Italy to start my marathon comeback training.
But of course, something had to get in my way.
Within a few weeks, I was experiencing unbearable fatigue. I was having trouble focusing throughout the day, and feeling especially exhausted on the weekends. I’d go for a long run, and then be completely useless for the rest of the day. Looking back, I think the exhaustion first appeared in late winter, but I overlooked it as being related to work stress.
I had the opportunity to get bloodwork done in August, and that’s when I learned my ferritin levels were at a dangerously low 4ng/mL—for reference, the “normal” range is anywhere from 10-291. This includes men and women, but a woman runner should definitely be on the higher end of this range, and the fact I was landing on the exact opposite side of the spectrum was concerning.
So I decided to downgrade from marathon training to half marathon training. I thought it would be best, and more feasible, to train for a shorter distance while trying to get my ferritin levels back up. I wanted to have a comeback, but have it be a sustainable one too.
I switched to the mindset of training for a half in mid-August, and felt so much more relieved. Despite the muggy summer runs, I felt my new goal was feasible—especially since I was able to visit my family for two weeks right around the time I made this training change!
Running in a new environment helped a ton. Texas was brutal in it’s humidity (3 miles left me drenched in sweat!), but the views of Spring, Texas were indescribable.
I started to take 54mg of iron a day, and focus on my protein. Once I got back to Italy, I was feeling better in regards to the chronic fatigue I had been experiencing, and I felt a little bit better about my protein since I came back with a giant tub of Sprouts vegan chocolate protein 😂.
As fall approached, I noticed that my pace seemed to become faster compared to my summer times, thanks to the cooling weather, but my training plan took a huge hit due to uncontrollable stressors in life. I was having to deal with a lot of unknowns about my prospects in Italy, and whenever I am dealing with stress at a level of intensity that seems unbearable, it most definitely impacts my running performance.
As it got closer to late November and I was still not hitting my time goals consistently, I decided to go into race weekend with a “chill” attitude—this race would be my comeback to racing after 2.5 years, after all…
Verona is about 1.5 hours away from Milan by train, but given that there weren’t any early morning trains on Sunday leaving Milan that would make it to Verona before the race start of 8am, I “had” to make my stay in Verona an overnight one. I know, how unfortunate 😉.
It occurred to me about a month out that I would need to get my boarding sorted for Saturday night of race weekend, and I was able to find a room in the center of the city, about 6 minutes walking distance away from the Arena and Piazza Bra, where the race start would be.
On race weekend, I arrived in Verona around 10am after dropping off my things, I made the 30 minute walk over to ParaOlimpia where packet pick-up was being held.
Checking in was extremely easy, but the “expo” was so tiny compared to what I’m used to. The LA Marathon expo for example is a huge event in itself, hosting hundreds of vendors, giving away dozens of free samples, and an occasion to celebrate before toeing the start.
I got my bag after a short wait in line, and indulged in some of the free snacks from Scotti, apparently the only vendor giving out food freebies. In addition to the food freebies, a few med samples were thrown in along with my race shirt, the latter of which was exciting to get since it has been a lonnnnng time since I had a new workout shirt from a race in my closet 😂
After walking back from the expo, I stopped for lunch at a cute vegan restaurant (I love supporting vegan establishments wherever I go, especially Italy) and had the most filling, delicious lasagna I’ve ever had come across my lips!
I was able to gather enough energy to walk around Verona, snap some pics, and gobble down some Venchi gelato within a matter of 2 hours—Verona is tiny and so this is certainly not unthinkable 😂.
I walked back to my stay for the night (around 4pm, lol) and decided to just relax, watch HBO Max, and rest my legs for the race the next morning. I also kept hydrated, and decided to go to sleep early, around 9pm 😅.
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The next morning however, I woke up with sharp, excruciating pain on my upper left back…seriously, on race day? I did my best to massage it out, but it was pinching pain that felt internal, and was nothing like I’ve experienced before. The only thing I could think of causing damage was maybe the extra firm mattress and pillow I was sleeping on? But it seemed strange that one night of different sleeping conditions could cause something so persistent and sharp…
I walked over to Piazza Bra seeing if a proper warm-up could fix things back in order. I was able to run, but every time I took in a deep breath, my back would spasm and pinch, and I would feel a sharp pain. I was wondering if I’d be able to handle this for 13.1 miles…
Assembling at the start was simple, however the start line was wrapped around the park so it made things inaccessible at first. Once I was in my corral, I tried to keep stretching and moving around but the pain was still there. Soon we were off, and I allowed the cool, brisk air and the adrenaline of others to push me at 8:07/mi pace. For the first 3 miles, the pain was sharp but I managed to reign it in and keep going.
When I got to mile 4, my pace had slowed incredibly from my outset to 9:29/mi. The pain felt stronger and mentally, I just felt like I couldn’t fight through it. We were running by the river at this point, and I found a side street to duck into at 4.66 miles.
I felt incredibly embarrassed and ashamed, but also relieved. Despite the time difference, I was able to talk (and cry lol) to my Dad for a bit as I made the 40 minute walk back to Piazza Bra, with my hand firmly placed on my back the entire way. Dropping out of a race—especially one that was supposed to be my comeback—felt like a huge blow to my racing career, given that I’ve been chasing specific goals since 2017, but have had to face one obstacle or another since then…
The Croce Rossa/Red Cross tent was at least at the start, so I thought I’d see what they could do to help. As a scientist, I’m not pleased with medical professionals and how they approach treatment in most situations, and racing in Italy where a language barrier also plays a role I knew wouldn’t help me when it came to explaining my situation…
…but there was at least one man who spoke broken English who gave me a high-strength dose of the equivalent to Tylenol. I still walked away from the tent defeated, but I swallowed the pill, and immediately became brainstorming about the next race.
About 2022. About how my life was now changing for the better, and that perhaps my external stressors could finally be in control, so I can devote time and energy to training for this passion of mine.
Obviously this was not how I wanted my comeback to look like, but I am also at ease to have gotten my “first race back” out of the way! Now I know what are the steps required to race in Italy, and it will save myself from a lot of headache in the future!
My RunCard doesn’t expire until June 2022, so I am thinking of racing some shorter distance races in Spring 2022. Maybe a half can fits it’s way in there, but I am still adamant about wanting to run quality races, more so than quantity, which was the theme of my past.
And the marathon? Will I ever reunite with 26.2, with success? Maybe Fall 2022 will be a good goal, universe-permitting…
If you’ve been following me for a while on social media, then you know I’m not the kind of person to shy away from the truth.
At the same time, my truth can change depending on the season I’m experiencing in life…and if you’ve been following my journey this past year, then you can safely assume it’s been quite a challenging season for me in Italy…
What started as an exciting, new adventure that happened to coincide with my budding career in academia soon turned into a whirlwind existential crisis. Suffering through a second wave of COVID lockdowns, struggling with a new work environment, and experiencing disappointment with my attempts at cultural assimilation led me to come head-to-head with my depression again.
And the biggest trigger was my current job, which ironically was what allowed me to come to Italy in the first place.
Winter 2020 was when I first began to feel academia would never be the place for me. I thought that the fellowship opportunity I was provided with in Italy would reignite a spark for academic research—that a successful stint in Italy would perhaps push me to pursue a tenured professorship position soon after.
In my situation, the complete opposite happened. I realized that the things I wanted to prioritize for my life and career—financial security, work/life balance, benefits—were better achieved within industry. These things could be achieved in academia, but given that the current number of post-docs significantly outnumbers available faculty positions, it would take a helluva lot more work (and luck!) to get to a place of security in academia.
Despite the ups and downs of the job hunt I fell into this year, I managed to find a unique, career-boosting opportunity that was exactly in line with my newfound career goals. It’s been a slow but interesting process to undergo, and to see it firmly taking shape in recent weeks has been such a relief.
So, what does this all mean for me and Italy?
I’m joining a pharmaceutical company in a scientific communications role! When I stumbled upon this opportunity, I was absolutely thrilled. The timing happened to work out well with the company’s needs and what I was looking for. Best of all, the job description seemed to tick off all the boxes for items that would make me competitive for a similar role in industry (medical science liaison; MSL) in the future, as I further my career…
Obviously this opportunity will allow me to continue to stay in Italy for now, but…I’ve realized thatItaly is not long-term for me. As a US citizen with a biology doctorate, I know that financially, I am better off returning to the US after gaining industry experience—especially if I am to pursue a medical affairs career that has the potential to develop into an executive role. They say money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy security. Safety. A comfortable retirement. The freedom to pursue other passions while not feeling pressured to rely on them for income…
This overall experience has helped me to firmly organize my priorities. I want to grow in my career. Get back to serious training with my running. Pursue writing projects I hope to develop into something big and invigorating…
Living abroad for a substantial period of time has also made me feel a new appreciation for home and my family.
Since I know Italy isn’t long-term, this also means a shift in my priorities. I’m not too hung up on learning Italian, at least as much as I was when I first moved to Italy. Establishing this in my mind takes a huge amount of pressure off—especially in regards to no longer taking offense by people who switch to English and prevent me from practicing Italian in the first place 😂!
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Going into the new year, I’m excited to work remotely for a few weeks in the US before returning to Italy. We’ll (my new company and I) be working towards an EU Blue Card as my new visa, so that will be an interesting experience to go through and document 😅.
Even though my priorities and future outlook have metamorphosed in regards to Italy and I, I am truly excited for my new career venture. And let me just say—compared to academia, my overall compensation package is 🤩. Being able to carry out a job with skills you’re passionate about, while getting appropriately compensated for it, is every career-oriented millennial’s dream, that’s for sure!
Alright 2022, let’s get going! I’m ready to make moves in my career, and let the ripple effect flow into other aspects of my life!😉