I was born in Sardinia and grew up there before moving away. I’m an only child and very close to my family, especially my grandparents — we’ve always been a tight unit.

I did most of my schooling in Sardinia, then spent my fourth year of high school in the US on an exchange. Because of how the system works there, I ended up with a US diploma as well. I returned to Italy for my final year and then started applying for bachelor’s degrees in the UK.

I moved to Dundee intending to stay four years, but I was offered an integrated master’s partway through, which extended my time there to five. With Brexit happening and so much uncertainty for European students, staying felt like the safest option at the time. I was lucky later to get settled status, but back then everything felt very up in the air.

The UK wasn’t a long-held dream, after the US I just wanted to be somewhere else. Many bachelor’s degrees elsewhere are taught in the local language, and English was the only option I really had. I’d studied it in Italy, but mostly properly learned it through private classes and summer trips. Still, when I arrived in Scotland, the accent made me feel like I’d never studied English at all.

After Dundee, I came to Wales for my PhD , not through some grand plan, but because things fell into place that way. I met my boyfriend, Anton, in Dundee, and we originally planned to move somewhere in Europe together. But our one-year master’s meant we were rejected from most programmes. Anton even turned down a place in Munich because I didn’t get in.

By then we’d missed many UK deadlines, so we were scrambling. Anton found a PhD in Swansea and encouraged me to apply. I got it; he took a gap year, reapplied, and got into Bristol. We now live in Cardiff and commute — something I tolerate mostly by looking at the sea and forgiving the train.

There was also a lot of moving. At one point I moved everything back to Italy, then back to Wales again. My family helped every single time. When I moved from Swansea to Cardiff, they turned it into an impressively organised suitcase conveyor belt between the two cities.

I’ve been in Wales for two years now. Life feels quiet, mostly because of the PhD — home, university, Tesco, repeat. I like Swansea for the beach and Cardiff for the park, but I haven’t had much time to explore. My sense of community is mainly my colleagues, even though none of them are Welsh — they’re still my people here.

One moment that really stayed with me was the Christmas light trail in Bute Park. It felt magical, like stepping into a fairy tale.

What I miss most about Sardinia is my family, but also myself — who I am in my own language. I think language shapes personality, and I feel more at ease at home. I also miss the slower rhythm of life: evenings that stretch on, cities that stay awake, time that feels fuller.

Swansea reminds me a little of home because of the sea. Seeing it on my way to work is grounding — a small reset before the day begins.

As for the future, I’ve changed. Before the PhD I was incredibly ambitious, always aiming for more. Now, after everything, I find myself wanting something simpler: stability.