I sometimes think there are two versions of me living inside me: one Ukrainian, who can get ready in 10 minutes, find a way out of any situation, and feed guests even "out of nothing," and the other Italian, who has already learned to argue about life with a cup of espresso in hand and pretend it's philosophy 😄

When I moved to Italy, I was sure the hardest part was the language. Naive. The hardest part is explaining to Italians that "I'm here now" can mean 5 minutes or tomorrow. And also getting used to the fact that lunch here isn't a snack, but an almost sacred ritual. If you try to work while someone nearby is eating pasta, they'll look at you as if you've violated an international treaty.

But there's something very warm about it. Life here doesn't run; it dances. Sometimes loudly, sometimes chaotically, but always with emotion. And honestly, it took me a long time to learn this dance. The Ukrainian part of me still sometimes tries to "speed things up," while the Italian part calmly says, "Why rush when you can do it beautifully?"

The funniest thing is my adaptation to flirting. In Ukraine, I'm used to a compliment being something serious. In Italy, a compliment is like "good morning": they can even say it to your bag. At first, I was embarrassed, then I got used to it, and now I sometimes catch myself smiling back too confidently 😏

And so you live between two worlds and realize: you haven't lost yourself, you've just become a little sunnier. And perhaps a little more dangerous for those who think that Ukrainian tenderness and Italian passion are incompatible 😉