This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Lisa Speroni. It has been edited for length and clarity.
I quit my government job in January 2022, two months after returning from a European vacation with my son, Ryan. I was about to turn 55.
“Are you crazy?” a coworker asked. “Have you thought this through?” they said. I lost count of the people who said I’d lose a big chunk of my pension if I didn’t retire at 65.
“I know,” I replied. “But this life isn’t for me anymore, and I’m moving to Italy.”
If I could have suffered through the next 10 years, I’d have qualified for a pension until death that was 90% of my $110,000 salary.
Still, money isn’t everything. The thought of staying in the rat race until 2032 was appalling. I was an IT project manager in the Social Services Department of the State of California. It meant being on call 24/7. If there were an emergency at 2 a.m., I’d get a text.
Ryan could get Italian citizenship because his dad was Italian
My son and I hadn’t fared well during COVID either. We rented an apartment in downtown Sacramento, which used to be bustling. Then, everyone started working from home. It was dead, and I didn’t feel safe.
Ryan’s dad, from whom I’m divorced, is Italian but born in the US. Ryan qualified for Italian citizenship if he wanted to apply for it.
He got excited about learning the language and signed up for the Tandem app, where people of different nationalities teach each other. Before long, he arranged to visit some friends he’d met on the app in Florence.
Ryan, who runs a niche menswear company, went for two months in the summer of 2021. He said I’d love the place. I flew to the city for a two-week vacation. The experience changed everything.
I enjoy watercolor painting, and the art, architecture, and laid-back café society blew me away. I toured the Uffizi galleries with an art history professor from a university near Florence. I gazed at the statue of Medusa in the main square.
My return was depressing. When we left the airplane, we had to wear masks because the air was thick with smoke from the raging wildfires at the time.
My parents gave their blessing for us to move to Italy
I felt stifled — physically and metaphorically. Whenever I did a Zoom call with Ryan in Italy, he’d say, “Are you OK, Mom? You don’t look well.” It was a combination of health problems — I’d been plagued by gastrointestinal issues for years, needing 30 surgeries — and the fear of going into debt.
Even though I was earning six figures, I got medical bills stamped “past due.” My car needed $1,000 in repairs, which I put on my credit card, which charged 22% interest.
My parents sometimes helped me out because I was struggling to afford gas and my $2,400 rent plus utilities. Groceries were five times as expensive as in Italy, and I had no savings.
One day, I started crying on a Zoom with Ryan, then 26. “I don’t want to stay here anymore,” I said. We went back and forth about the decision, writing the pros and cons of moving to Italy. The only con was missing my folks. But Mom told me to go for it. “You’re at the time of your life when you deserve adventure,” she said.
We sold our stuff or put it in storage. The paperwork in Italy was complicated, especially getting Ryan’s citizenship. I qualified for a visa as a close family member.
We flew to Italy many times, visiting different areas to decide where to settle. Turin was a possibility in the north. Then, a friend introduced us to Salerno on the Amalfi Coast. We fell in love with this little city on the sea and permanently moved in August 2023. Our spacious, two-bedroom apartment costs $800 a month, and we can eat good, fresh food for just $10 a day.
I love how the different generations interact in Italy
Ryan and I think nothing of traveling to Rome to stay for a few days. We don’t have a car, which is our preference. I’ve lost 50 pounds, mostly by walking. I chalk up as many as 20,000 steps a day.
Meanwhile, one of my favorite activities is people-watching. Families of all generations — babies and toddlers to 90-year-olds — stroll along the streets. After sunset, they go in together for dinner. It’s common for adult children to live with their parents so our situation is not unusual.
As for my finances, I get a California pension that’s about $25,000 less than the annual amount I’d have received at 65. I don’t care about that. I finally have savings and so much less stress.
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