I still remember the day I graduated and completed my Bachelor’s Degree in “Classics”. I was super happy. The final exam went so smoothly, and all the professors at the University of Palermo seemed genuinely satisfied with my achievements. That night, I threw an amazing party at my place. I invited tons of friends and had a blast.

However, while celebrating, a tiny, uncomfortable feeling was quietly growing inside me. But hey, it was my graduation day — no room for unpleasant thoughts, right? I just pushed it aside.

The day after the party, though, there were no more excuses. That same uncomfortable feeling started to rise again, and this time, I could put a name to it: fear.

Fear of what, exactly?

Fear of the future.

But first, let me give you a little context about how university works in Italy. Usually, after completing your Bachelor’s Degree, you’re expected to continue your education by enrolling in a Master’s Degree. At that point, you have the chance to choose which Master’s program you want to start — but (and here’s the catch) Master’s degrees are usually super specific, and you can only access them if your Bachelor’s is in the same field.

So, back to my newly-graduated self: I was terrified of the future, not only because I had no clue which Master’s to pick, but also because I had started to imagine what my work life would look like if I kept going with Latin and Greek.

Spoiler: the visions weren’t pretty.

In Italy, finding a good job as a “Latin and Greek expert” (other than becoming a professor) is very hard.

I started blaming my younger self — the one who had stubbornly chosen to enroll in “Classics Literature” right after high school. The same younger self who had even fought hard with his parents about it (you can read the full story here).

That passionate, idealistic fire I once had? Completely gone.

Instead, my inner voice started yelling things like:

“You’re such a fool. You’re going to struggle with money forever.”

“You’re destined to sleep under a bridge… with a Latin dictionary as your pillow.”

So, to overcome that crisis, I tried to reconnect with my inner self — to reflect on my true purpose and values.

I remembered one night, years before, when Giacomo Leopardi (an Italian poet from the 19th century) first showed me the power of communication. How words can influence, inspire, even change people’s lives.

And suddenly, I realized I was losing that value.

I started thinking back to my three years of studying Latin and Greek.

Where had my passion for communication gone?

The world of Classics academia just didn’t match my values. Professors didn’t seem to care about communicating to people or inspiring them to be better. They only cared about publishing papers that nobody reads, and counting how many times other papers (that also nobody reads) cited them.

In that moment, I felt something inside me break.

I understood clearly: if I continued with a Master’s Degree in Classics Literature, I’d become just another academic trapped in that vicious, dusty circle, with also very few money in the bank account.

And that was definitely not the future I wanted.

I wanted to communicate with real people.

I wanted to inspire them.

So, I started looking around for Master’s Degrees in fields somehow related to communication.

Bad news: most of them wouldn’t even accept students with a Bachelor’s in Classics.

Except for one…

I found this Master’s program in “Digital Humanities and Digital Knowledge” at the University of Bologna.

It was this weird, fascinating mix of Computer Science and Humanities.

I checked out the course list.

“Computational Thinking and Programming” — no idea what that meant.

“Natural Language Processing” — sounded cool, but I had no clue.

“Data Science” — wait, do I need a lab coat for that?

But weirdly enough… I liked it.

I liked the idea of learning something completely different (and probably more profitable than Latin)

I knew I would have to learn coding — something totally alien to me.

But instead of feeling scared, I felt excited.

It was so refreshing compared to the “ancient” Latin and Greek stuff.

So, I enrolled.

I took the admission exam — and it went great.

That’s how I overcame one of the most intense crises of my life.

And honestly? I’m proud of it.

Even today, when people ask me why I decided to completely switch fields, I always answer:

“I don’t know. I just felt it was aligned with my life values and purpose.”

In September 2020, I packed my things, moved to Bologna, and my life changed completely.

I left Latin and Greek behind — but I stayed true to my deeper purpose: communication.

That move didn’t just mark the beginning of my adventure into the world of coding; it also led me to something I could have never imagined.

Among my new university mates… there was someone who would later become the co-founders of my very first company.

But hey — that’s a story for another time.