ITALY
ITALY: I’ve Been Saying “I’m Italian” My Whole Life… Was I Finally Proven Right?
I’ve always said I’m Italian like it meant something.
Like it explained my love for food, my need to romanticize everything, the way I linger in moments longer than I should. It’s never just been a fact—it’s been a personality trait.
So going to Italy felt like more than a trip.
It felt like proof.
Or… the risk of being wrong.
Rome: Where Everything You’ve Ever Seen Is Suddenly Real
We landed early, dropped our bags, and immediately started walking—because that’s what you do in Rome. You walk until your feet hurt and then you keep going.
The Colosseum wasn’t just “cool”—it was one of those moments where your brain actually pauses. Like… how is this just here?
And the Trevi Fountain—I don’t care how many photos you’ve seen, nothing prepares you for it. We threw coins, obviously. A little cliché, a little chaotic, but also one of my favorite moments of the trip. I was just… happy. Like unapologetically, little-kid happy.
We walked into Vatican City and it felt surreal—like stepping into something you’ve only ever learned about in school. The scale of it, the detail, the history… it’s overwhelming in the best way.
But one of my favorite things?
Just walking around at night.
Getting a table, ordering food, taking our time. There’s no rush. You sit, you eat, you talk, you stay. That’s the rhythm.
And the gelato. Constant. Necessary. Non-negotiable.
Florence: The Climb, The View, The “Okay… This Is Unreal” Moment
Florence felt calmer—but somehow just as powerful.
We climbed to the top of the Duomo… and I’m not going to pretend it was easy. It was a lot. Tight spaces, endless stairs, slight questioning of life choices.
But when we got to the top?
Worth it. Every single step.
Looking out over the city, everything felt still for a second.
We also did a wine tasting—which… I already knew I loved wine, but this was different. Sitting there, actually learning about it, tasting it slowly, not rushing—it felt very Italian in a way I didn’t fully get before.
And then dinner with your mom and dad—those moments matter. Sitting, eating, talking, laughing. That’s what Italy does best. It turns meals into memories without trying.
Venice: Getting Lost Was the Plan
Venice felt like a place you’re not supposed to fully understand.
We did a gondola ride, which felt very main character, but also very real at the same time. Floating through the canals, seeing the city from the water—it’s quieter, slower.
But honestly, the best part was just wandering.
No strict plan. Just walking, turning corners, finding random spots. Venice rewards that. The less you try to control it, the better it gets.
The Little Things That Ended Up Being Everything
Some of my favorite moments weren’t the big landmarks.
It was sitting at the Trevi Fountain at night, just taking it in.
It was gelato runs that turned into routines.
It was dinners that lasted way longer than expected
It was realizing that in Italy, nothing is rushed—and nothing needs to be.
So… Was I Just Romanticizing It?
I thought maybe I had built Italy up too much in my head.
That maybe I’d get there and feel slightly disappointed.
But the opposite happened.
It felt familiar.
Not because I’ve been there before—but because the way they live makes sense to me.
The emphasis on food. On slowing down. On enjoying where you are, who you’re with, what you’re eating.
Final Verdict
Did Italy meet the expectations I’ve had my whole life?
No.
It validated them.
Every time I’ve said “I’m Italian” with a little extra emphasis…
yeah.
Turns out, I had a reason.
