Hi there, my name is Gloria Pia, though only my parents ever use my full name (even when they are not mad at me). Everyone else picks just one part of it to call me by, or sometimes they invent their own versions. I was born in Chieti, a small(ish) town in south-central Italy; as I tell my non-Italian friends, it is at the same latitude as Rome but on the Adriatic coast. The beach is just 20 minutes away, and I spent parts of all my summers there with my mum and sister. The mountains are 40 minutes in the other direction, and from my balcony, I can see the silhouette of the Sleeping Beauty — a stunning view, especially at sunset. And the countryside? Just 12 minutes away, where my grandparents live. It is where I spent the other parts of every summer until I turned 18, falling off bikes, scratching my knees, and stuffing my belly with the best food in the world. They grow their own olives, water their own tomatoes, and raise their own chickens.

In high school, I studied Greek and Latin, but my favourite was my English professor. I was especially drawn to Sylvia Plath, captivated by the layers of meaning in her work and how much remained just beyond my understanding. Still, the highlight of high school was meeting the lifelong friends I grew up with. There were 12 of us, now scattered across the world, but knowing them so thoroughly has made finding new, authentic connections feel (at times) quite laborious.

At 19, I left Chieti and moved to Rome, the bustling capital, to live on a student campus where someone once filmed a niche Italian movie and, occasionally, sheep would wander around freely. My first choice of university was, in hindsight, a bit questionable — a sort of Political Science course in English with a mix of Economics and Law, though “well, meh” is probably the best way to sum it up. But if I had not made that “wrong” choice, I would not have met my best friend Nats. She lives in Jordan, loves photography, and once played Among Us with me for days straight just to help me through a breakup.

I eventually switched to philosophy at La Sapienza because I wanted to know all the “whys”. Naturally, I graduated only to learn that there are no answers. Still, even with no answers, I had the time of my life living with my childhood best friend, Fede, who taught me how to find comfort within myself through her gentle kindness.

After that, I went on Erasmus to Dublin, where I stayed with a local family in a small wooden room. It had a beautiful window sill, and I would sit on part of the roof, listening to the river clinkering nearby. It was not just studying — I fell in love too (with Gavin).

Once I finished my degree, I returned to Dublin to pursue a Master’s in Philosophy and Public Affairs — and to my luck, I found a stunning group of lifelong, fun, beautiful, princesses/besties (as we call ourselves, The Libertinas). I still loved philosophy, but I wanted to bring it down from the abstract clouds and apply it to real-world issues. My biggest passion is fighting for women’s rights, and I know quite a bit about domestic violence (and how much people still do not care about it).

Having moved around and met people from all over the globe, my Heart is scattered across the world. Loving people from afar is tremendously frustrating, but it forces you to be intentionally considerate, making that Love, yes, heart-wrenching, but also far more profound.

I love creating stories through videos, editing them into memories that will last forever, safely stored away on a hard drive, unwarped by the distortions of time. I love reading autobiographies, glimpsing into other people’s lives to find guidance in my own. I love making mushy soups and foods that taste like mushy soups. I love theme parks and singing out loud, often while I am riding rollercoasters. I love watching utterly stupid TV shows that let me switch my brain off completely. I love being alone, without the need to manage the thoughts and feelings of everyone around me. I love dancing in an empty house with headphones on, free from any eyes that might see me. I love — and miss — my mum’s clothes. I love rings and mixing silver and gold. I love my living room when it is filled with my friends’ laughter, pasta on their plates, white wine in their hands, and everyone talking way too loudly. I love an empty beach, with a book in my hands and the sound of the waves reminding me of how minuscule and ridiculously vulnerable I am. I love reading The Secret Garden because it makes me feel like I am that child discovering wonder, safe in a world of flowers and sunshine. I can almost inhale the fragrant blossoms and musky dawns through the pages.

I miss my family. I miss the sun. I miss my scattered friends (Arco, Cece, Emma, Dori, Nats, Teresa). I miss feeling calm and unburdened, especially when life holds me so tightly I forget how to allow myself to breathe. I miss the feeling of having all the time and opportunities in the world, even though I know I still have (some) time.

I am here now, writing, because I love listening to what I have to say, and I love hearing what people think about what I have to say. Writing makes me feel (human). Writing reminds me that as long as I have something to say, and as long as I want to communicate with you, I am truly alive. And I hate writing because I love how it forces me to confront what I know about who I am and the many, complicated ways I relate to others. But that is exactly why I am here, ready to share My-self (and what interests me) with You.