Moving to Italy
- MsTam
- Jan 18
- 5 min read
Before I moved to Italy, I lived in the Washington, DC area and my life revolved around the time displayed on a clock. I had a strict routine and schedule, and it was necessary to be successful in my life there. I could predict my whole day based on the time my feet hit the floor every morning. I was on the hamster wheel and I ran like my life depended on it, and it mostly did. The decision to move to Italy did not come lightly, and was predicated on quite a few dependencies. It was not easy, in any way, from the start to the actual move. But it was a trajectory that appeared quickly and happened just as quickly for me, which is how I knew that it was "meant to be."
I packed our things into six suitcases, with the intention of starting fresh in our new home. I didn't bring one piece of furniture or comfort, nothing outside of clothes, toiletries, and mementos. (I do rent a storage unit in Virginia to store my life's memories, paperwork, and a few pieces of furniture that meant something to me.) Within the first six months of 2018, I applied for a job, got the job and the international visas necessary, enrolled my kids in an American school in Italy, and hopped on a plane to our new life.
I was burnt out in the US. I had catapulted to success early in my career and it was killing me. The career path had blazed before me, and I merely walked it, while it was still steaming. I didn't take the time to consider what I truly wanted to do and accomplish in my life. I dreamed of being a writer, but also had some IT skills. Alas, there is where I landed. This new job in Italy promised a lower tempo work life, and I needed it badly. My new boss was the epitome of an exemplary human, and he kindly guided me as I waded through the massive transition that had become my situation.
As a newly single mother of two children, it was the scariest thing I've ever done in my life. A new life, a new job, a new country, a new language, a new culture...it was a lot. And I thought about giving up and going home many many a time. The sleepless nights, the endless tears and frustration, and the unsettling sense of being a foreigner in a strange new land, existence and experience almost broke me. My kids grounded me, and their excitement for the newness kept me going. I actually had decided to go home about three months in, and I asked them what they wanted to do. Both said, "Stay!" I cried myself to sleep that night.
Because it's a good story, I'll share this. I had never driven a manual vehicle in my life, but I found a cheap "beater" on a local FB yard sale page and reached out to the owner to purchase it. The owner agreed to meet me for a test drive before the sale. I brought my two kids, because that's what I did then (they were never out of my sight unless they were in school). The owner of the vehicle walked me around the 2000 VW Golf, pointing out all it's reliable features and the great shape it was in, despite it being older. He holds out the keys, and I gulp. "I don't know how to drive it," I said. "Can you drive it so I can see how it sounds and drives?" The shock on his face makes me giggle now. "Umm, sure." He stumbled over his words. "Are you going to learn how, with this car?" He laughed, "yea, I'll drive it." So he drove it, while my two kids sat in the back seat quietly. After the "test drive," we pulled back up next to my rental and I said, "I'll take it." When we met a few days later to register the car in my name, he told me that they found some issues with the car during the final inspection. I was so disappointed, I knew I'd have to start the search over. But then! He said that he was so impressed by my situation, he wanted to gift me the car and I could spend the money I was going to use to buy it, to fix it. I felt the heat of tears rising, I had already felt so defeated in this move, and I was not expecting this. I agreed, quite stunned and speechless, and we transferred the car into my name, with the price of $1 listed as the sale price. This kindness was not unique during my transition here...so many kindnesses of coworkers, strangers, and Italians gave me the strength to push through all the craziness and stick it out. Learning to drive stick shift is its own story and if you know me, you've heard it. I spent over a month, while we were still in a hotel, trying to find somewhere to live and learning how to drive stick in a parking lot behind the hotel. The AC was unreliable, so I spent many sweltering summer evenings sweating and cursing first gear while the kids did homework or were asleep. Another person staying at the hotel for a few days actually sat with me in the car a few times, teaching me how to listen to the car, how to feel the engine and gears working together. This was also an extreme kindness I never expected, but am so so grateful for having received. Needless to say, it took another almost six months to feel totally comfortable driving the car in these mean Italian streets (lol). Not a lot of drivers in general have patience on the roads, but driving in Italy is its own experience. If you know, you know. Within a year, I was able to procure another manual vehicle that was a tad more new, and that got us through the next five years of Italian life. I powered my way up and down the Alps, visited Cinque Terre and Rome, wound my way around the cliffs of the Amalfi coast, and coasted through many parts of Germany, Switzerland, and Austria. RIP to my X3 <3
Driving aside, I also had to find a home that made sense for me and my two kids. I looked at so many different places, from modern just-built homes (with heated floors and in-ground pools), to duplexes that reminded us of our townhouse in Virginia (one had the exact same layout, crazy). We settled on a charming single family villa nestled between two famous icons in the town's community (two actual UNESCO World Heritage sites...be still my history-loving heart). The history, the charm, the fabulous setting...I knew it was home the moment the wrought-iron gates slowly opened upon the property. The initial plan was to live in Italy for three years and then return to the US. It's now been almost seven years since the whole plan unfolded, and we are still here. Life is slow and sweet; peace and quiet are my best friends. I exist to feel, to love, to experience. Not just to make money and keep the wheel turning.
In this almost seven years, we've traveled to many amazing Italian cities and beautiful European countries. The experience is something I never dreamed I'd be able to attain, much less do on my own and with my two sweet blessings. Every moment in my life brought me here, and I'll be eternally grateful. More to come another time, thanks for walking down memory lane with me today.
From Italy with Love, Tam
This was a very inspiring read. It actually made me tear up a bit. You are incredibly strong and brave to make such a huge decision, embrace change, and willingness to evolve personally to achieve peace and joy for you and your family. Bravo, MsTam!