"I'll pick you up and show you Rome"
An Italian man, gelato and 8 hours in Rome I'll never forget
In 2019 I needed a flight from South Africa to Greece. When I searched for them on Google flights one flight in particular stood out to me: a flight to Greece with an 8 hour layover in Rome.
I had the idea to take the train from the airport during the layover. I did a little research to make sure it was possible and I booked the flight.
Not too much prior I had been connected on Instagram via mutual friends to an Italian man who lived in Rome. I messaged him, said I was coming as asked what he recommended I see.
“I’ll pick you up and show you Rome,” he answered.
He arrived to Termini in his white Audi, and when I went to give him a hug, he playfully shook his head no and said, “you are in Italy now. Here we kiss.” And he leaned in for the quintessential double cheek kiss.
He asked if I was hungry. I was but I was too excited to be in Italy to eat. He drove me past the Colosseum, showed me the Pantheon, explaining that he likes to come here to eat pizza and marvel at the view. He walked me through he streets of Rome and took me to the Vatican. He treated me to a gelato (at 9 in the morning) and was the perfect gentleman.
My first time in Italy wasn’t just me in Italy; it was in Italy and under the care of an Italian man.
He and I are still friends to this day. We get together when I’m in Rome or when he’s in Florida. I tell him all the ways I’ve found Italian men to be kinder than American men and he tells me about the new country music he’s listening to.
He, even though we are just friends, shows me every time what it means to be a true gentleman who cares for women.
As a friend, I’ve never been made to feel like my emotions were unwelcome. Our relationship, even as friends, has always been handled with care. I know, without a doubt, that if I needed something, he would be there.
I don’t love Italian men because they aren’t problematic. Lord knows they can be. Men are. Humans are.
I love them because Italian men have shown me something I’d never experienced before.
They’ve shown me what it feels like to be cared for.
I had never had that.
I know intimately what it’s like to be treated poorly by a man. Almost every horror story known to western women, I’ve experienced. I’ve also raised children alone, not only with no help, but with a man actively trying to make life hard for me.
I have been alone with no one to depend on but myself.
I don’t trust men easily. I don’t let them get too close.
But for an hour or two and a gelato, on my first visit to Rome, I able to experience, for the first time, a sense of ease and a sense of safety that I was not used to with men.
I’m often accused of romanticizing Italian men, and maybe it’s true. Maybe it was the fact that I was on the heels of a breakup that left me wondering what causes men to flip from “sweet nothings” to verbally abusive.
Whatever the reason, it was a big deal for me and it’s not something I’ve ever forgotten. Even though it’s now behavior I’ve come to expect and experience often, I will never forget that awakening.
I’ve since walked those same streets of Rome dozens of times and each time it reminds me that the neglect, abuse and harassment we often endure does not have to be the way it is.
You can be cared for.
It starts with an awakening that it is even possible.
Mine happened in Rome.
Bellisima Roma.
What a great story, thanks for sharing, it gives hope to those that have had horrible dating/relationship experiences.