Life as a foreigner and single woman in Italy is not all “la dolce vita”

Some years ago, I wrote a couple of blog entries (see links below) about what it was like to be a female foreigner in Italy, with knowledge gained through observations, interviews with the women in my family, and books and articles. I believe this is vital information for women when considering the important decision to change countries, even for short stays, but much more so for those who are considering completely uprooting and buying or renting long term in Italy.

But it’s clearly obvious that I don’t qualify as any kind of expert on the topic, so I’d like to refer you to the observations of fellow blogger and author Chandi Wyant, a single woman who moved from California to Tuscany around the same time that Lucy and I started living in Montecarlo part time.

In her recent Substack, titled Chiming in on the Move to Italy Discourse, Chandi writes: “Americans become obsessed after vacationing in Italy and via hyper idealized Hollywood movies. I totally get the vacation thing. But vacationing and living in Italy are two very different things.”

Chandi Wyant

Chandi goes on to explain some of the not-so-sweet things about living la dolce vita as a foreigner, most particularly as a foreign woman. One of her first observations—something Lucy and I have seen as well—is that though Italians are very friendly with foreigners, it can be difficult to break into Italian social circles in more than a superficial way. Many of their friendships date back to childhood, and Italians can see us stranieri as very temporary, which in truth is pretty accurate. It’s also true that our developing language skills don’t allow us to have deep conversations anyway, and that’s another factor. It’s worth it to note that many of our best Italian friends here also speak English.

I’ve been told more than once that the best way for me to integrate into Italian society and learn the language more quickly would be to get an Italian girlfriend. For some reason, Lucy is not a big fan of that idea! Nor am I, for that matter. I’m okay with knowing I’ll never truly have close Italian friends or speak the language flawlessly, largely because I have such a great partner with whom I can share everything—and who also laughs at my sometimes pitiful attempts at humor (in fact, I showed her this paragraph and she chuckled).

My and my "girlfriend," doing our best to
blend into the Italian scene.

But all joking aside, I’m sure my life in Montecarlo would be somewhat lonely if I were single. And my difficulties would be multiplied many times, from what I’ve heard, if I were single and a woman. Chandi writes that she has given up dating, because most of the men who asked her out were seeking a relationship only for—to be blunt—sexual reasons. She’s also had difficulties with contractors who have tried to take advantage of her financially. While unscrupulous contractors may try to hoodwink men as well, experience shows that they see a single woman as an easier target. Not only that, Chandi even had to fight off two contractors who tried to assault her physically.

Chandi and I are not saying don’t move to Italy—there are many, many beautiful things about living here—but be aware that you will also be changing one set of problems for a host of new ones. Yes, the food here is great, and the cost of living is lower (outside of the large cities, at least), but so are the salaries. I could go on and on about the differences, but I digress. I want to focus more on the social aspects of life in Italy as a single woman.

Regarding her home remodeling, Chandi noted that hiring and managing male workers as a foreigner and single woman proved to be extremely frustrating and difficult. “Almost every worker was stupefied not to find a man in charge,” she wrote. “One of their first sentences was, ‘Sei sposata?’ After a year and a half of this, I was ready to scream and throw a hammer at a wall if I had to hear the question again about my marital status. Of course, it was none of their business, but they very much thought it was their business.”

I recommend reading Chandi’s eye-opening account, and while you’re there, you can sign up for her Substack and get her insider information on Florence—including fascinating art and history insights. She’s a historian of the Renaissance and a licensed guide.

My advice to any single woman—or couple, for that matter—considering moving to Italy is to do something that Lucy and I did. We came for three months at a time, always to the same place. We rented an apartment in an agriturismo, took language lessons, met our neighbors, and learned as much as we could about how to live as Italians. After our five-year trial period, we decided to buy our own home. By this time, we had looked at many houses and locations, and we knew exactly where we wanted to live. We had friends who helped us inspect the house, set up a bank account, select a geometra and notaio, and accompany us at the closing meeting. Had we purchased one of the other homes we had looked at over the years, it would have been a mistake. Without trusted friends to help with the purchase, we could have wasted thousands of euros. Making a major life change on a whim may work out in the movies, but it rarely does in real life.

Footnotes: Chandi has also written a book, Return to Glow: A Pilgrimage of Transformation in Italy.

My earlier blog entries about how women are treated in Italy are

Is Italy a safe and healthy place for young women (and men)?

Do Italian males live up to reputation for persistent and flirtatious behavior?