Italy as an unplanned detour
surrendering to the unknown
All of my life, I’ve been a planner. It is my defacto way of feeling safe in the world. In the last five years, I’ve been trying to gently release this version of myself and let myself be open to following my intuition and going where I am inclined to go. When Italy came up out of the blue, I was very shocked and elated, but I did not question it. My partner had been applying to jobs in Italy through his work for years and never got any traction. Suddenly, in December of 2022, two jobs in different locations in Italy were courting him. When he told me he got the job, I didn’t have to “decide” anything - I just knew that we were going. I didn’t know how we would make it happen, or when, but I knew we were going to figure it out.
Within a mere four months of accepting the job, we had made the photocopies, signed the contracts, booked the hundreds of calls and appointments, and said goodbye to our beautiful home. We walked onto the plane blissfully unaware of what was in front of us, including the harrowing three day long, one-way trip to Napoli, a city I had never been to before. Looking back on it, almost one year ago, it was one of life’s “unplanned detours” that ended up being rockier than I thought it would be. And 2023 was my year of unplanned detours.
I went into the year full of hope, optimism, and confidence. My life is aligned! I’m starting my own side hustle! I married a wonderful partner! We are moving to Italy! I have to go back and hug this woman, who was fully living in what felt right to her. I have to tell her, “I love how much you are really going for it”. Confident that she would figure it out, no matter how much paperwork, or how many sections of Duolingo she would have to get through - she was going to make it happen.
Was I too optimistic? Or was I simply naive? My overall excitement for living in Europe again, one of my bucket list items that was certain aligned with what I wanted, blurred the fact that it might be difficult to uproot my life AGAIN. It was good that I clung onto this optimism, because the stress of packing up all of my items, after having already moved my entire life across the country, felt very overwhelming.
Not to mention, I was very happy in San Diego. I had a beautiful community of friends, lots of hobbies, long walks by the ocean after work, sunsets, weekend trips in my van, fresh air, parrots, a vegetable CSA delivery, and a weekly farmer’s market trip. I was so comfortable there, that when I was thrown into the Neapolitan summer, the sweltering heat and the screaming Italians - I went into a complete state of overwhelm.
I really liked this article by
(which has since been paywalled) in which she very eloquently describes the daily small frustrations of being an outsider as a British expat in the States. She writes, “I felt so tired, and so incompetent, having gone from someone who really had my shit together, to being someone who suddenly struggled to make a phone call, or make the petrol pump work”. I wrote to Clover in Substack’s notes, and she said something that really resonated with me on the sensation of being an expat: '“One of the things I have found hardest is trying to explain to people who have not done this how genuinely weird it is. It’s not an extended holiday. And it’s made me think so much more deeply about what it would be like to be forcibly moved from your home. I know I am lucky to be moving from one place of privilege to another - very lucky indeed. And yet, it has still been hard, upsetting, even deranging at times! Much more than I could have imagined it would be.”Deranging. You would have to be a bit deranged to take on the navigation of moving abroad. There was something really maddening about missing a signature on our paperwork, and having to return for another three hour commute at 5:40 AM. Or when you’re so hungry but you can’t figure out how to get food to-go on your dinner hour, so you cave and get a fried chicken roll-up at the self-serve McDonald’s kiosk. When you miss the ease of going into a room and understanding how to greet everyone without worrying if you should use the formal or informal. Learning to wait in line, when the sign-in sheet and ticketing system are simply not observed and Italians are elbowing you out of your spot. Begging the dry cleaning lady to give you your sweaters even when you forgot your ticket! Sifting through endless stacks of paperwork, which will never be entered into any computer system.
I didn’t realize I would be grieving what I lost: the security, comfort, and stability of home. I have been trying to talk to that woman whose confidence has been shaken. I’ve been trying to tell her to stop waiting around for the perfect conditions to become that person again. I don’t have to wait for a made-up date on the calendar that I can circle and say I “will finally feel comfortable living in Italy”. There isn’t anything waiting for me at that place. I can create comfort and security for myself, today. This “journey” has been one step forward and two steps backward, wobbling along like a toddler. As
writes, “you have to evolve, rather than strain for the past, as that’s a place you’ll never get back to, however much you want it”.Can I surrender to not having a return home ticket? To not knowing what comes next? To just doing what feels right and good? In the “Spiritual Shit” podcast, Adeyemi Adeyosoye says “there is no destination. The destination is the other side”. Eventually, we will get to the other side. What will we have learned in this world? What will we have experienced? How can we push ourselves to sit with our discomfort and make peace with it?
What about you? Have you ever booked a “one-way ticket” somewhere, literally or metaphorically? What have you learned on your unplanned journeys? How do you combat feelings of homesickness?
My husband of 37 years died when I was 62. A few months later, my most important client--the director of a nonprofit agency in Vienna, Austria, asked if I would move to Vienna and work for them fulltime--and I said yes! So at the age of 63, I put my belongings in storage, said goodbye to my family, and climbed on the plane.
The first few weeks of getting settled were really challenging (and a bit hilarious when viewed from hindsight--I will have to write about this sometime), but I made it through and then things got easier. I found Meetups with other international residents absolutely invaluable because it can be difficult to make friends with the locals, who have their own lives and circle of friends.
But the five years I lived in Vienna were the best years of my life, and I wouldn't trade my experiences there for anything. I eventually did meet an Austrian, fell in love, got married, and retired with him to one of the most beautiful places on earth--the west coast of Ireland.
There are some cultural challenges even here, though. Luckily I have my husband to share everything with--and none of the challenges compare to the benefits!
On the other hand, I would find living in southern Italy a bit daunting. (Austria has lots of bureaucracy, but it is extremely clean, the trains all run on time, health care is fabulous, and traffic moves calmly and smoothly.) From what I've read about your journey so far, Brenna, I think you are doing really well in the face of southern Italian challenges--and whatever happens you are amassing some wonderful stories!
living in Costa Rica...8 years. Still hard.