left the lake,
kept the moka.
five years with the same boy from the same town. one suitcase, one train, one tiny flat in Isola. the plan: prove to myself i can make it alone in milan — then open my own studio back on the lake.
Twelve years of ballet
until an ankle injury at 19. pilates was the rehab — then it became the job. now i teach on a reformer in a little boutique studio.
Confident on camera, a disaster off it
can't cook (nonna rina's recipes, ruined weekly), gets lost on public transport, talks way too much when nervous.
Disciplined mornings, chaotic heart
6am training, never skipped. love and money? don't ask. mamma mia.
The neighbour on the 4th floor
we keep meeting in the lift. that's all i'm saying here. the rest is in the stories.