my story (part 2)

🍁 Canada Again – Let’s Give It a Shot

With much better English, I returned to Toronto (yes, I really love that city), this time as a Personal Trainer with international certification, determined to start my career there. I hit the ground running with my resume and a list of fitness centers—but in the end, no one was willing to sponsor me. So, I came back to square one: the small fitness center in my hometown. But I didn’t give up.

🇦🇺 Australia – Hate and… Love!

After a few months, I got a Working Holiday Visa for Australia, ready to start fresh in Melbourne and try again to make it as a Personal Trainer.

Me during a 4 days holiday in Sydney (AU)

You might think: “Awesome, that’s where you finally made it!”But no… not quite.

The first months were brutally hard. I knocked on the doors of every fitness center while doing all kinds of jobs just to get by. But once again, nobody wanted to invest in someone with a soon-to-expire visa.

There’s a quote that says:“Don’t let your pride get in the way of your goals.”

So I set my pride aside. I had to work—my savings were running out, and it was time to adapt, quickly.

I landed a job as a dishwasher in a restaurant.

I wish I could tell you that was easy,but it was tough, mentally. I had solid English, I was certified as a PT, and there I was, scrubbing dishes in an Italian restaurant in central Melbourne.I’ve always had big dreams, so starting from the very bottom was frustrating.

But here’s the twist: I had never had so much fun at work. It was hard work, sure—but the kitchen crew was amazing, the energy was contagious, and going to work actually felt exciting.

When I had to leave that job for a better-paid role as a waiter at a well-known restaurant in Carlton, I was genuinely sad.But luck stayed with me: even in the new place, though it wasn’t my dream job, I found a fantastic team and friendships I still hold close to this day.

Australia was a two-faced experience: the first part was brutally challenging, mentally draining. The second part,I left a piece of my heart there.If I had to sum it up in one sentence:"It broke me at first, but then it filled me with joy."

When it was time to return to Italy, I did cry. Saying goodbye was incredibly hard. As I waited at Tullamarine Airport for my flight back, I remembered the anxiety and fear I had when I first arrived.

Then, that same airport felt like home,thanks to the people I had met along the way. I will never forget you, and I hope to see you soon again!