For the longest time I felt like I had two people living inside me, fighting over who got to control me. One was my Italian side: she takes over in the kitchen when I make homemade pasta with my dad, she gets distracted with every little detail she sees, she persuades me to sleep in those extra 5 minutes in the morning, she drinks espresso amaro come la vita. The other is my American side: she sneaks in in the kitchen as well, but when I’m making cheesecake with my mom, she forces me out of bed for a morning jog, she gets annoyed when people walk slow in centro, she longs for a pumpkin spice latte while we gulp down that espresso.As the three of us go through different life experiences together, we are learning more. Like an espresso might be too bitter, and a coffee from Starbucks might be too sweet, so we like to add some milk to that coffee we drink too many times a day. Un caffè macchiato per favore!In many ways that’s what I am. A macchiato.