From "expat" to "inpat." Debbie explains why she doesn't think of herself as the person who left America. Italy was a better match for her life and what she wants from it, so she sees herself as an immigrant who came to Italy and now has her citizenship.

Trying it before committing. A couple of days added to a 2017 vacation became a three-week stay, then five weeks living a regular life with a friend, through a Sardinian summer and winter in a concrete block building with no heat, air conditioning or insulation. It still felt like home, so she started looking into visas.

Tourist time versus moving. As Debbie understands it, tourists may stay 90 days out of every 180 and aren't supposed to work. She walks through the paths she knows of: self-employment, investment, elective residency for retirees, working for an employer, and the digital nomad visa.

Citizenship takes years. Debbie stresses that citizenship typically takes years, and says she understands Italy changed its ancestry rules in 2025 so that a parent or grandparent, rather than a great-grandparent, is now required. Her advice: start tracking down birth certificates early.

Build a team, and meet the geometra. Property taxes don't arrive in the mail in Italy. A geometra, a local surveyor, checks your land, zoning and records. Debbie suggests a lawyer, a real estate agent, a geometra, maybe an architect, and a guide for the day-to-day details.

When the paperwork pushes back. Debbie talks about rejections with no explanation, days spent crying, and the flight to Rome to swear she is really herself because her passport lists her birth state while her birth certificate lists her town.

Farmhouses, zoning and patience. Land zoned for agriculture isn't meant for a guest house, garden shed or workshop, and plans go through the local comune. Debbie calls misunderstanding zoning the number one mistake she sees, and reminds us that everything takes longer than Americans expect.

The truth about one-euro houses. These are usually distressed properties that may need new plumbing, a new roof, or removal of lead or asbestos, with tens of thousands of euros of work, in villages that may have no grocery store or doctor nearby. Listings show the sea, but the village may be an hour away. Debbie's advice: research, and hire that geometra.

Life runs in Italian. Your doctor, the police and your kids' school all use Italian. Debbie encourages learning the language, joining the community, and not simply moving into the part of town where all the expats are.

What are you running from, and toward? Debbie shares the coaching questions she asks, and why her own move felt like running toward something new.

Five suitcases and the "undo button." She arrived with five suitcases and kept her move easy to undo for about two years before bringing over her cargo container. A calculated-risk planner, she wants every client to have a plan A, a plan B, and a budget.

Do the math before the Airbnb dream. Debbie recommends a spreadsheet that counts property management, cleaning and property taxes, and working through the numbers with your team before you buy.

The residence permit wait. A visa doesn't let you do everything at once. Without a permesso di soggiorno, Debbie says, you can be blocked from opening a bank account or starting a company, and one of her clients waited about seven months.

Everyday life in rural Sardinia. Debbie describes better food at lower prices, a village butcher, shopping several times a week to stop and chat, and a husband whose quick coffee in the village takes two hours. She also shares her driver's license saga: back to driving school for two months and more than a thousand euros.