It has been a year, and the sky did not fall.
On July 31, I toasted a year of living here. Well, living here again. You might know, if you’ve read the About Me section (which I really should re-tweak) or you know me personally, that I lived here before when I was in my earliest twenties. The decision to come back, abandoning a traditional law firm career full of momentum, was agonizing. I remember telling my best friend Jonathan, “If I don’t go to Rome now, I never will!” And like only a real friend will permit himself to do, he reminded me, “Well, you did already do it, you know.”
And that’s true. Which made it even more difficult. I had already had this adventure, and sown my wild oats. If I hadn’t, that would have been a plausible explanation for this lunacy. Instead, the decision to throw up a peace sign to my law firm, to Dallas, to the home I had bought only two years earlier and the pool I thought I’d teach my future babies to swim in, and my friends, and trivia night at Buffalo Wild Wings, and the lawsuits I had been working on for years, and my paralegal who brightened every morning, and my three colleagues who I genuinely loved having lunch with every day at freaking 11:30 AM, and the Chevy Malibu that I had never replaced even though I went from starving student to well-paid counselor, and my ex’s family who had become my family, and Jonathan, and Jennifer, and my walk-in closet, and my powerful air conditioner, and the palatial grocery store I could navigate blind, and parking, parking everywhere, and my exquisite parents and sister just a short flight away, and Netflix, and Bravo, and Target, and Home Depot, and wide open spaces and wide open roads, and the American Dollar, and a million television channels, and clients I was finally getting to know personally, and unbelievably low taxes, and my double oven, and my rose garden, and my herb garden, and my clothes dryer, and all my grandmother’s lovely furniture that I had finally gotten out of storage only to now have to put back into storage, and reliable mail, and reliable utilities, and affordable everything, was wrenching my guts.
And it was even more agonizing because there was nothing whatsoever heroic about going off to have an adventure at 32 years old. I wasn’t joining the military, or the Peace Corps, or even the public defender’s office. My motives, at least from the outside, appeared to involve a desire for more party-time. The truth is that I wasn’t miserable in Dallas. If I had been, the decision would have been quite easy and agony-free, no? If I had really been a rabbit trapped in a cage, which I sometimes, dishonestly, claim to have been, it wouldn’t have taken any courage to chew off my own foot to get out.
Instead, everything was rather tolerable. And then I got this idea that “tolerable” is no way to spend this one-and-only life that God has given me. About the same time, one of my oldest friends, whom I had known since she was born a year after I, died of breast cancer. She was kinder than I will ever be, really sweet like a puppy, and it didn’t seem possible. I was overwhelmed with my own mortality, at 32 years old.
Combine all that with the biggest romantic disappointment of my life and you have the perfect storm for a major life upheaval. I thought for two seconds about moving to Hawaii, about practicing some kind of law there, or maybe Colorado, but I only ever really considered going back to Rome. The most difficult place to move to in the world, maybe, if you want to actually make a living legally. The economy is in the toilet, no one is hiring, let alone sponsoring, foreigners, and the Euro is crushing my Dollars.
But I came, legally, and have been able to keep up something of a law practice and scrape together enough to pay my Manhattan-level rent. In the first months, I was not sure how long I would stay. I would set little goals like “Halloween” … “Thanksgiving” … ok, “Christmas.” Each time I would push the goal farther back. Some months, I made exactly 0 dollars. Other months, I broke even. One month, I made a lot. I had always had steady paychecks, and so this was stressful. Many times, I literally sobbed in the shower, thinking in complete sentences such as, “I have ruined my life.” I was terrified that maybe what I had thought was gutsiness, was really just an inflated Peter Pan syndrome.
In between fits of loneliness and regret, this year has been punctuated by extremely fun moments, most of which I have written about on this blog. You’ll pardon me if I did not write about the nights I sobbed in the shower, or ate tuna out of a can over the sink and wondered, “I left Texas for THIS?”
The encouragement I have received from some of you (friends and strangers) has meant more to me than you can imagine. I want to express my sincerest gratitude.
I don’t know how much longer I will be here. When I bought my house in Dallas, I “knew” I’d raise a family there. It turns out, nobody “knows” anything about anything.
But. It has been a year, and the sky did not fall.
I am one of those strangers silently cheering you on. Your perseverance is inspiring and even us living at home have those what-have-I-done-with-my-life moments. Good luck and I look forward to future posts:) If you ever decide to come to Colorado though, I can be your tour guide.
Kristyn
Kristyn, oh my goodness, thank you.
I always enjoy your posts/tweets/FB updates for your brash humor. This post has none of that, and yet I think it’s one of the best things you’ve written. Brava! And don’t ever lament that you’re enjoying your life too much at the expense of making a living! Most (if not all) of those things that you’ve listed which scream of American-style prosperity are over-rated anyway (OK, maybe not the air conditioning, but the rest of it). It’s like eating a McDonald’s hamburger: it sort of seems appealing for some reason, yet in the end it leaves you feeling cheated–and unhealthy.
RICK!!!!!!!! Thank you so much, generally and specifically for each sentence you wrote there.
I enjoy reading all your posts, you are very brave to have challenged yourself to leave all those great advantages behind to live in Rome….especially at this particular time when as you say everything is going down the “toilet”…some people may say that Italy has always been like this, but after living here for 9 years I disagree….it’s more like everyone is used to the chaos so they don’t notice more chaos….
Being an expat you always long for what you left behind….sometimes when you go back you find that it is not as important as you thought it was….in the end I think that family ties win over especially as you get older, once you have lived in another country you are constantly on a see saw, never really knowing where it is that you really want to be……!!!! Good luck for your next year in Rome…..
Thank you!!! I agree, I’ve often said that once you live in another country for a long time (I lived here for 4 years before, so now I’ve completed my 5th), you never really at feel at home anywhere. A seesaw is a good analogy. I refuse to attempt to predict anything anymore!!! Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Carla!
My wife and I are taking the plunge and moving to Bari next month, ostensibly for a year. While I just discovered your blog (interesting observations of your visit to our soon-to-be adopted city, btw), we are big fans of HHI. We’ve traveled to Italy many times over the years, yet still questioned our decision to give it all up to move when the opportunity arose. But something you said at the end of that episode caused my wife and I to pause and look at each other, nodding in agreement and saying “yeah, that’s right.” Motioning with your hands a few feet apart saying “Italy is this much harder” but then outstretching them when you said “but this much more fun.” Thanks for that inspiration and I look forward to following your second year. Mark
Dear Mark,
Thank you for writing and your extremely kind words! That thing I said at the end, I’d said that 1000 times before and I’ve said it 1000 times since. I was so glad it made it into the episode (unlike the other million brilliant things I said – haha), and so I’m even more glad that you noticed/liked it! I don’t think anyone’s put me and “inspiration” in the same sentence, like, ever. I am touched.
Why are you moving to Bari? I think you will love it as long as you don’t live near the train station. Bari Bari or Bari environs? Check out my recent post on the Pugliese countryside. It is completely enchanting. When are you moving? I am 100% sure I’ll be back at the Trulli some time in the next year. Please keep in touch!!!!!
Your (new!) friend,
Liz
Liz,
I’m sure they cut out the other brilliant things you said so as to not draw too much of a contrast with some of the other episodes 🙂 Not a single person has asked us why we’re moving to Italy, but everyone asks “why Bari”? We decided on Bari because it’s relatively warm and on the water (we now live in St. Petersburg, FL), it seems to be a good transportation hub, we liked the city a lot during our visits, it’s a big city, but not too big and it’s relatively un-touristy and a bit more affordable. We also love the Puglia region…I like your post and pics from the area. Our apartment is north of the train station, very close to the old town, and walking distance to the water and about everything else. We’ll see how it goes. As you point out, nobody really knows. I look forward to staying in touch! Mark
…and BTW, maybe a year from now I’ll be singing a different tune, but for now I still think it’s THIS much harder but THIIIIIIS much more fun.
Oh, and by the way, we arrive (with these humongous suitcases my wife bought) on September 18th.
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