I arrived back in Florence last Monday night, after a year away. I was here previously for 4 years, so I knew I wouldn’t experience the culture shock of a new country all over again. What I did experience however, was the feeling of being given a second chance, and knowing the mistakes of the past and being able to use them to shape a different, wiser experience. I decided to come back after much deliberation and because I had wanted to leave so badly a year ago (although probably more to escape relationship problems than the city itself) my friends and family were shocked. And appalled. But in the end I think that most of them knew that I had to do what was best for me and my 3-year-old son, Dante (yes, that’s his real name). Let me explain.

I was in California, living with a good friend of mine whom I have always called Capelli Rossi (CR for short) because of her vibrant red/purple hair (she is often recognized for it, in fact). I was working at my old job in an independent bookstore and trying to send Dante to preschool. Turns out, preschool and childcare in general, cost more that I was making at my job (not uncommon). While I love many things about the States, I do believe that we have some things backwards. Making life impossible for mothers, especially single mothers, is one of those things. So I was basically bleeding cash. I had also packed on an extra 30 pounds right away, due to the expense of healthy food options and the ubiquity of preservatives, and unnatural ingredients in so many of the foods around, not to mention needing to drive everywhere and having to find time to exercise (not an easy feat). These are common problems in the States as I’m sure most people will attest.

Italy has its share of problems, to be sure. A joke of a political system, bureaucracies up the wazoo and a penchant to complain, while not actually making changes. But healthy food is cheaper, health care is free and Dante can go to school for free and as a bonus, really cement his bilingualism. These are big things and important things. Add this to the fact that his father is here and they can have a relationship, and the choice was practically made. I just needed to get my heart behind it, which eventually happened.

So here I am, living alone (with Dante) for the first time in my life in a tiny studio apartment downtown, that is noisy 24/7 and I love it. I love having my own space and decorating as I see fit (which I LOVE to do), and eating what I want and cooking and being able to walk out the door and be in the heart of things. I love Italian food and the language and walking everywhere. It also doesn’t hurt that the Duomo and other historic, amazing buildings are a few steps away. I still have friends here, and I know my way around, so it’s not the same as starting over.

So that’s the back story, especially for those of you who have stuck it out with me over the years and wondered what happened from the end of the blog until now. Now we can actually get to the good stuff.