Moved to Italy but Kept US Job: One Surprising Challenge Makes Life Hard

Moving abroad is often painted as a romantic leap — a bold woman, a plane ticket, and an “Under the Tuscan Sun”-esque dream.

And sure, it can be that. But many not-so-glamorous spreadsheets, late-night money panics, and small acts of courage go into making that dream even remotely possible.

I’m a solo female freelancer who recently moved from the United States to Florence, Italy, with my 60-pound dog, Archie, in tow.

After nearly a year of research, I decided Italy was the most logistically and financially feasible choice for me … even though I’d never been to the country before.

The visa seemed accessible to me, the city was walkable, and Florence had the right mix of history, beauty, and a central location to help me figure out where I might want to land long term.

By April, I’d mapped out my move: I’d canceled my lease in the US, sorted my visa, hired a pet mover for Archie, and lined up client work. I arrived in Florence in mid-June, with my rent for the month already paid.

I knew I’d experience culture shock, loneliness, and logistical headaches, but I felt prepared … until July rolled around and I saw what the exchange rate had done to my rent.

Soon, I realized just how hard it would be to manage a budget across two currencies

Like many American freelancers abroad, I’m still paid by my clients in US dollars. However, I pay for my rent, utilities, groceries, and dog food in euros.

And when the dollar dips and the currency exchange rate isn’t in my favor, things can feel expensive, fast.

When I went to pay July’s rent, the dollar had dropped enough that I owed nearly $300 more than the month before.

Same apartment, same price in euros. However, thanks to the exchange rate, it hit my bank account completely differently.

No one and nothing had warned me about this — not the expat course I took or dozens of blogs I read and YouTube videos I binge-watched from others who moved abroad.

And yet here I was, staring at currency charts, trying to time the transfer just right. Eventually, I gave up. The rate didn’t bounce back, and I needed to pay my bills.

I converted the money, paid the rent, and reminded myself of something I’d said a dozen times during this move: I’d figure it out. I always do.

Creative problem-solving — and dating — is now part of my job

Living solo anywhere means you have to be your own safety net. There’s no second income to fall back on or partner to split the rent with.

I can’t control how the exchange rates between euros and US dollars fluctuate — especially now, as economic uncertainty makes the changes trickier than ever to predict.

Because I’m on a digital-nomad visa, I also have to keep my income tied to work outside of Italy. I’m not looking for European clients yet, but I’m preparing by learning the local language and easing into the culture with the hope of picking up EU-based work in the future.

I keep watching conversion rates — and crossing my fingers they may even be in my favor one day. Until then, I’m getting creative and taking control of what I can.

I’ve landed new podcast clients, followed up on old leads, and started exploring affiliate income opportunities. I’ve even considered monetizing my own podcast for the first time.

I moved some of my savings to an interest-bearing euro account. I’ve opened my guest room to fellow solo female travelers for short stays in exchange for help with groceries and utilities.

I began using apps like Too Good To Go — where I can buy extra food from cafés and restaurants at a discount — to save money, reduce food waste, and try new local spots.

And yes, dating helps too. A coffee or dinner invitation where someone else picks up the check doesn’t just ease the budget; it eases the loneliness.

Connection softens the isolation that can creep in when you’re half a world away from your people.

Even on hard days, I know I made the right move

Being six to nine hours ahead of most of my friends and clients has its perks (hello, uninterrupted mornings), but it can also feel isolating.

I’m still practicing my Italian and figuring out how to meet people or even hold full conversations at the dog park.

Even when the dollar drops or I feel completely alone, though, I don’t regret this move for a second. I walk more, eat better, breathe deeper, and I’m no longer rushing all the time.

But the reality is that I’m figuring out a lot of things in real time, with no trust fund or Instagram-worthy villa behind me.

The dream is real … but so is the math. I can’t fully plan my way out of uncertainty, but I can continue to build a life that’s flexible, self-sustaining, and entirely my own.