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.
Cappuccinos from local bars are nice too. This one was from a bar in Milan’s Vigentino neighborhood.
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?
Life was so much easier before social media took over. I’ve lost track of my passions and who I really am in some ways. What can I do to find myself again?
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 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.
If there wasn’t some sort of paperwork to be done, could you even call it the Italian way? 😂 This health certification sign-off is required for other activities too like access to gyms, group sports, etc.
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.
The things one does for a marathon…
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!
A beautiful Texas sunrise
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 😂.
In addition to low iron and humidity, I was wearing the most HORRIBLE shoes for running…do not get Saloman shows for running, even if they say they are running shoes. WORST decision ever and my heels made sure I knew!
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…
Set up in Verona before the race. At Piazza Bra.
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.
Waiting in line at packet pick-up—10k and full marathon had shortest lines. Of course the half marathon line was the longest!!
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 😂
I’ve walked away with LARGER hauls from races in the US, but I suppose this was a pretty good haul for an Italian race!
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…
Trying to warm-up before the race
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.
Found a nice spot to run to in the north part of Milan—staircase to some great sunrise views!
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…
Milan, looking from North to South
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!😉
It’s 8am on an unusually chilly, mid-summer morning, but I suspect you’ve already been awake since dawn. You’ve put a moka on the stove, and gave Cappuccino her kibble.
What’s next for the day?
Porta Nuova, one of the major train stations in the city
A brisk walk around the city’s famous piazzas? It’s familiar, it’s routine, but doing that today feels unsettling.
On the way to Piazza San Carlo & Piazza Castello
81 years have been spent in this city, and you realize that’s been a lot of time. Wasn’t it just yesterday that you were walking hand-in-hand around the fountains of Piazza Castello with a handsome, young diplomat?
No, it was a dream that may or may not have happened 60 years ago…
Piazza Castello on a quiet morning
And before diabetes, there was always Café Al Bicerin to look forward to.
The iconic Café Al Bicerin
Most kids remember the first sip of wine their parents allowed them to take. But you know that doesn’t compare to the experience of one’s first Il Bicerin.
The iconic cafe’s signature drink – Il Bicerin
A warm, rich glass layered with coffee, hot chocolate, and cream, only made more heavenly with a side of biscotti. Such a treat now would have to be timed well to avoid a sugar-induced coma!
You see Cappuccino is starting to get antsy. A walk outside is now mandatory, but if not at one of the piazzas, then where? Deciding where to go ends up becoming a walk in itself, but then you realize you are in the vicinity of the Palatine Towers, a strapping Roman age relic that has stood well against the test of time.
You were never one for history, always daydreaming about the future and escaping to a modern Italy. But after years of chasing that illusion, it’s felt less exhausting to retreat back to what is familiar and appreciate la dolce vita whenever possible.
Humor in Torino
And of course that means food and drinks and amici, but it’s been years since you’ve attended weeks upon weeks of gatherings.
Plaza across from the Palace Parliament
In fact, wasn’t it just last week that another dear friend was put to rest? Time seems to have let you be, winning the title among your group of childhood friends for longest-living ragazza was never the plan.
Palace Parliament
Despite the looming, bleak outcome life seems to have in store, redirecting oneself back to daily distractions seems to help. Especially if Mole Antonelliana is that distraction.
Mole, a building of monumental proportions…Alessandro Antonelli got that right.
When it comes to distractions, crossing the Po River to see Torino from the top used to be a magnificent escape.
Crossing the Po River, amongst the backdrop of Torino pride 🚩
Leg pain and fatigue get in the way from making the steep climb nowadays, but it’s something you would have urged your kids and grandkids to do if they had ever graced this planet.
A feisty, furball like Cappuccino on the other hand? Good luck chasing her stubby legs up a vertiginous incline!
Borgo Medievale seems more approachable right now, although another long walk through the park doesn’t sound appetizing to a grumbling stomach.
It’s nothing like Disneyland—a teenage dream that even your world-faring parents couldn’t help you fulfill—but at least you take pride in its authenticity.
Borgo Medievale
Fontana di Nettuno is nearby and always stirs a chuckle…as a fiery Leo, you find Agosto to be a tad timid, while Settembre and her Virgo charm seem to be asking for a friendly competition…
Settembre and Agosto personified!
Alright, it’s been an incredibly long walk, but before collapsing onto the bed at home for a lusciously, long afternoon nap, una coppeta of gelato seems much deserved! Diabetes should let a few spoonfuls pass on through without a fuss😉
Gelato from La Romana
Sweet caramel and pistacchio—flavors that always wrap you with comfort. Gelato—Italy’s gift to the world that despite the unknowns and uncontrollable outcomes of life, life is still a sweet adventure.
An adventure that Torino genuinely fulfills in a quiet,reflective manner.
Once again, I’ve retreated to the tongue that gives me comfort—English.
Despite years of back-and-forth with my parents trying to practice Tamil.
Despite taking four years of German in high school, and letting an intermediate level college class my freshman year intimidate me from going further.
Despite being enamored by the idea of an adventurous life abroad—first being swayed by Spanish but then pushed towards the direction of Italian, due to available job opportunities in my career field.
But it’s not like I’m monolingual either.
Give me a few minutes, but I can piece letters of the Tamil alphabet together. I remember the phonetics–a, aa, e, ee–and eventually my brain puts two-and-two together.
But are my relatives patient enough for me to spit out the syllables?
In German class, I reveled in the moments Herr L. gave me a 100% on the oral parts of our German exams, or when he awarded me the top German student award my sophomore year of high school.
Did I really let a cold, middle-aged teacher’s assistant get in the way of furthering my Deutsch?
And in graduate school, I thought I wouldn’t ever want to leave LA. But then I experienced a short solo trip abroad, and it led me to daydreaming about a new life chapter in Southern Europe. I took weekend Italian classes for fun. Got my former boss to approve my taking of an introductory Italian course at the university I was working at as a freshly-minted PhD, since I was applying for a post-doc research position abroad. Just when I thought I was doing the right amount of preparation, mixed with a healthy blend of enthusiasm…
COVID-19 hit. Along with other obstacles I wasn’t expecting—little by little, my enthusiasm and motivation for learning a language I thought I would be ready for—Italian—was fading away by the minute.
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I’ve met expats here in Italy who say if they could have changed one thing about preparing for their life abroad in Italy, it would have been to learn the language before arriving. But I have to ask, how much is enough? My casual approach with and exposure to Italian began in December 2018, followed by a summer break, and then a university-tailored introductory semester course in Fall 2019. Even with all of that I didn’t feel prepared, but I did feel motivated. I remember telling my Italian teacher at the end of my “mid-term exam” that I would be moving to Milan in February 2020, and he quipped that I had enough of a foundation to build on. That I was all-set for a really exciting time.
Was what I knew really enough for late summer nights in the heart of Milan?
Needless to say, the dire situation Italy was in during spring 2020 left me troubled and crushed. How could I stay motivated with what was going on in the world? With no end in sight, how could I be so sure I would be moving to Italy at all?
So, I took a break from Italian, that is until things seemed to reshift back into balance. When I finally arrived in Milan late June 2020, I had a quarantine to get through. This allowed me to “stall” in regards to communicating with others, as I was nervous about how much I could get by with, with the little Italian I thought I knew.
My new work colleagues appreciated that I was learning, but they were quick to “assure” me that I would learn Italian as time passed. Not to worry, you can get by with English for now.
But this attitude only left me frustrated, because I was genuinely trying to be vulnerable. I wanted to meet someone who would force me to only communicate in Italian, but everyone seemed too impatient for that.
I soon grew tired of my “switch-to-English” giveaways. My Bank of America credit card. My United States passport. Upon seeing these clues, the baristas, the delivery guys, the grocery store clerks, and the government workers wouldn’t give me a chance to try.
It just felt like I was always getting shut down.
As I continued into summer 2020, I did my best not to give up. I signed up for a premium subscription to a language learning app called Busuu, since it seemed to offer language level tests (that A/B/C system) and certificates to prove your language level. Supposedly, the app even adjusted the predicted time you would reach a certain level (i.e. B2) based on your progress, however I never noticed any changes despite my daily log-ins and obsessiveness to meet the daily time goals. I was able to reason with myself and decide that I would keep my language learning as a solitary activity for the time being, and put things into practice with people as time went on.
Language exchanges for international women seemed like a wonderful opportunity to socialize and practice speaking Italian, in theory…
The chance to practice with others did present itself as short-lived language exchanges. I was able to attend these events on a weekly basis from September through end of October 2020, and even though the idea of participating in a language exchange seemed perfect, what usually ended up happening was that the native English speakers helped the native Italian speakers more than the other way around…
What it really ended up being was an excuse for late evening aperitivo (and dinner for me!) at “trendy” places like the Duomo or Piazza Gae Aulenti.
I was the girl who had to settle for a frappucino at 7pm, because I wanted a drink like all the other girls in attendance, but just not one with alcohol!
But even with a language app and in-person language exchanges, I quickly realized that being in Italy, why wasn’t I taking the opportunity to pursue private lessons with a native speaker? So I met with a girl who was in the same Whatsapp group for international women in the city that I was in. She was a native speaker, and even though she studied languages in college and seemed to be “fascinated by world cultures”, she was anything BUT a patient teacher.
I started my lessons with her, twice a week, at the end of September 2020. I would leave from work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, exhausted as could be, and somehow found my way to her tiny apartment in Lambrate, only to be scolded constantly about everything I was saying wrong.
By our 8th class, I was fed up with her attitude. She knew fully well what my background was—a foreigner with basic Italian, looking to improve her conversational skills. Yet this girl could not hold back on her attitude, telling me I needed to study and memorize as if I was taking lessons from her for an upcoming exam.
Missy. I came to Italy for what I thought would be an enriching experience. Not to be repirmanded by a impaziente brat like you.
I took to Instagram to “clap back” at her so to speak, and I was met with numerous comments in support of my situation, with commenters agreeing that this so-called “tutor” had no right to act the way she did. That teachers—especially foreign language teachers—should show kindness, patience, and empathy.
A fellow expat helped me connect with M., a British woman who spoke fluent Italian. I thought perhaps taking lessons with someone who could understand my background better was worth a shot. And given that COVID lockdowns were reinstated in late October 2020, our bi-weekly Skype sessions were appropriate with the new mandates.
M knew that my weakest link was with speaking. A couple of lessons in, we would devote the first half hour of lessons to just having a conversation, which I appreciated at first, but then found mentally draining.
Going into 2021, I was feeling extremely exhausted. Extremely depressed. There were other factors in my life that were taking precedence, and trying to hold onto Italian lessons when I felt like my foundation was crumbling was unbearable.
Those short-lived moments of September-October 2020 seemed like a distant memory once 2021 hit…
I remember not signing into a Saturday morning class at the end of March 2021. I was feeling frustrated and angered by the events that had played out by the end of that work week. I couldn’t shake away the emotional turmoil I was feeling.
M. had called wondering why I hadn’t signed in for class that morning, and I felt bad for not giving her enough notice, knowing that she was taking time out of her day too. But I had to be honest with myself, and I left her an audio message with uncontrollable sobs that intercalated with my shaky words.
I wasn’t sure if this was worth it. If I could stick it out here. And if I couldn’t…what was the point of learning this language?
She was kind in her response, and empathized with my situation with sincerity. She knew my desire to address some major factors in my life, and understood that in order for me to do that, lessons would have to take a backseat.
Once I acknowledged that I needed this hiatus in order to tackle the issues that seemed to be clouding my life, I felt okay. Italian would certainly be more fun to learn once I was in a better state physically, mentally, and emotionally.
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My goals have changed since that first Italian class in December 2018. Life’s twists and turns brought me to Italy, but the experiences that followed have tested my patience, my strength, my confidence, and most importantly, my humility.
It depends on the situation, but I have accepted that there are times I need to be kind to myself on this journey. If I need to recruit a native speaker to help me with governmental paperwork, I don’t feel guilty if they end up making numerous phone calls on behalf of me, but I still do get frustrated if someone cuts to English with me if I feel like I’m doing okay.
I’m still waiting on a lot of things. Opportunities that will perhaps push me to practice Italian more. Situations that present themselves as worth learning Italian for. But until that happens, I’ve allowed myself to “take a break” from actively learning Italian, even as I continue to live and work here.
Somewhere up in those Italian hills…
And for those that doubt my language learning journey or question my why, I must say this: there is nothing wrong in retreating to the language that gives you the words to express the deepest feelings in your soul. There is nothing wrong in seeking comfort in the language that gives you your voice, while trying to understand your purpose in a new world.
