I’m a 30-year-old American woman who recently completed my second graduate degree. Rather than pursuing a lucrative job or relocating to a bustling city, I decided to move in with my Italian mother-in-law in the small town of Pietravairano a month ago. This choice allows me to save money, take a breather, and reconnect with my extended family. I plan to stay until my student visa expires at the end of the fall while searching for a remote position at an NGO.
Previously, my partner and I lived in Belgium for two years, exploring many countries. We both longed for the sunshine and missed home. In addition to job hunting, we are mapping out our next steps, with the desire to spend more time in Italy each year. Having him here with me, surrounded by family, brings me joy.
His mother lives on a farm in a town of about 3,000 people, filled with chickens, cats, and an entirely different pace of life compared to my past. I’m learning Italian, and while she doesn’t speak English, we communicate through garden vegetables, long walks, and plenty of gestures. We connect over food, flowers, and family, hoping that the next six months will not only lead me to a new job but also help me appreciate a slower lifestyle.
Raised to value independence, I always thought it was shameful to return home or seek help from family. However, I’ve learned the importance of being near loved ones and cherishing small moments together. Here, I’m discovering it’s okay to be cared for, and I’m embracing my new role in this household. I’m trading hyper-independence for home-cooked meals, anonymity for friendly neighbors, and screen time for leisurely walks along dirt roads.
This moment in my life feels like the right time to intentionally connect with my partner’s family and explore a slower rhythm of life. This arrangement also offers flexibility—I can pursue a job I’m passionate about rather than simply chasing a high salary.
Beyond job searching, I’m eager to learn from her. She possesses abundant knowledge about food and plants. Currently, it’s zucchini season, and we’ve been drying some in the sun. I plan to bake her a zucchini bread in gratitude.
Next month, we’ll harvest potatoes—she prepares them perfectly grilled with olive oil and rosemary—and soon we’ll make sun-dried tomatoes and other preserved foods. In the fall, we’ll gather grapes for winemaking. She enjoys baking cakes, and I’m looking forward to acquiring her recipes this summer. As a retired teacher, she has the patience to help me learn Italian, and I’m pleased to say we can now hold short conversations.
Living with my mother-in-law is transforming my perspective on adulthood and my aspirations. This arrangement isn’t just a temporary solution; it’s reshaping my beliefs about independence and success. Sharing a home with someone from a different generation and culture has challenged my previous notions about life.
There’s a vulnerability in being a guest in someone else’s environment while figuring out my path, but there’s also a quiet resilience in building family connections in unexpected places. I’m learning to slow down, listen, and let life unfold naturally.
Returning to a household where I don’t call the shots has been humbling. The established rhythms are new to me, but this experience brings a richness to my life I hadn’t anticipated. Although I envisioned postgrad success differently, waking up to family around me and enjoying meals together feels like winning a lottery. Even if I land a job soon, I might not be ready to leave this comforting life just yet. I’m learning to embrace a slower, more intentional approach to living, much like the tomatoes we’re drying in the sun.