I don’t consider myself a particularly philosophical person. I am deeply analytical, and maybe that crosses the boundary somewhere. I can tend to overthink situations or things people say to me. But, at the end of the day, I rationalize most of my thoughts and feelings. To dwell in them and about them and then apply them to the way the world works would make me philosophical.  I don’t dwell on things beyond the day. Some beings are more contemplative….

Recently, I have been wondering if I will ever be able to be myself in Italy. It’s not the people or the community—they are extremely welcoming. But, as I study Italian, I do think about the very real fact that I will never speak the language well enough to express myself.  Am I prepared to live a life abroad with my abbreviated language skills? I am having a bit of an existential crisis.

The crisis comes after dealing with several scenarios here in Italy in which I required a translator to get the job done. We’ve managed pretty well in most scenarios. Like the two days we spent trying to get our cats’ their EU passports. Despite the language barriers, there was success.

There is a small feeling of accomplishment with these successes too. At first, successfully ordering a cappuccino at the bar, or prosciutto at the gastronomia, was something to celebrate when we first arrived. Now, we stroll along the river and pop in anywhere for a coffee and cornetto and we don’t even think twice. 

But it’s different than contemplating your day lived through a translator. There is something about the inability to accomplish something without assistance. It somehow feels like less of a success. It makes you feel as if you are being removed from your own agency. Whoa…that’s too much. And I don’t think I’m in a group of oppressed people who are denied their agency. Let me try to get back on track….where’s the track?

I am thinking that without my voice I will never be able to be known to someone because of my language barrier. I am really good at expressing myself to people when I choose to. And, I am pretty easy to read. Anyone who knows me will say that my expression can relay exactly what I am thinking. It’s true. This quality has gotten me into trouble on more than one occasion. 

However, if you know me you know what I am thinking by my expression. Without knowing me, my expressions can be seriously misinterpreted.  So I think, for anyone I speak Italian with, they will likely never know me because the language prevents me from expressing myself.  Am I okay with being unknown or unknowable in my Italian life?

Actually, the truth may be that I know I will never master the language well enough to feel comfortable expressing myself.  And, that’s probably on me—probably.

I’ll need to keep those demons under control.