There is a question I often ask couples before I begin writing.
"When did you first realise this person was becoming home?"
It is never answered straight away.
There is always a pause.
Someone smiles.
Someone looks at the other.
Then the stories begin.
And that is my favourite part of this work.
Because I have never believed that love lives in grand gestures.
It lives in ordinary moments that become unforgettable because someone finally notices them.
That is what I have spent most of my life learning to do.
To notice.
Life, however, rarely follows a straight line.
Over the years I have worked in hospitality, translation, fashion and community projects.
I have lived by the sea.
Travelled through places that challenged my assumptions.
Worked alongside women rebuilding their lives after exploitation, supported people recovering from addiction and discovered that listening can sometimes be the most generous thing we offer another human being.
Those experiences never felt disconnected.
Looking back, they were all preparing me for the work I do today.
Becoming a celebrant was never about changing careers.
It was about recognising something that had quietly followed me all along.
The desire to understand people before trying to describe them.
That is why I continue studying.
Literature.
Voice.
Public speaking.
Poetry.
Music.
Every book, every journey and every meaningful conversation gives me another way of understand what makes a relationship unique.
Not so I can sound more eloquent.
But so I can write with greater honesty.
Alongside my work as a celebrant, I coordinate Peace Circles in Italy.
They are simple gatherings where people meet to listen rather than judge, to understand rather than persuade.
This work has profoundly shaped the way I approach every ceremony.
Because writing begins long before the first sentence.
It begins with listening carefully enough that two people feel recognised in their own story.
When a couple chooses me, they are not simply choosing someone to stand in front of their family and friends.
They are inviting me into one of the most meaningful chapters of their lives.
That trust is something I never take for granted.
Perhaps that is why I write slowly.
Why I ask questions.
Why I notice details.
Why I believe the right sentence is worth searching for.
The ceremony itself may last twenty minutes.
I hope the words stay with you for the rest of your lives.
If they still feel true when you read them again on your tenth anniversary, then I know I have done my work well.
And that, more than anything else, is why I became a celebrant.
I grew up in the gentle countryside of Le Marche, a region that taught me the beauty of slower rhythms, long conversations around a table and the quiet confidence of people who rarely need to impress anyone.
In my twenties I unexpectedly found myself introducing couples from around the world to this part of Italy as a destination wedding planner.
Many of them came from Britain.
Without realising it, they also introduced me to another way of looking at life.
I later lived in England, studied there and gradually fell in love with its understated elegance.
Not the grand landmarks.
The small rituals.
Bookshops.
Second-hand treasures.
Tea shared without hurry.
Long walks.
The comforting belief that conversation deserves time.
Even today, a part of me still imagines living somewhere near the Lake District, surrounded by books, changing skies and quiet mornings.
That world never really left me.
It simply became part of who I am.
Where I work
An Italian Heart with an International Mindset
My roots run deep in the authentic soul of Le Marche, but my work takes me wherever beauty calls—from Rome and Lake Como to the sun-drenched masserie of Puglia. I am particularly honored to collaborate regularly with the prestigious Borgo San Felice Resort in Tuscany as their trusted, preferred celebrant.
I bring to your day the warmth and spontaneity of a truly Italian heart, balanced with the intellectual depth and flawless execution that an international celebration requires. Let’s strip away the predictable and create something quiet, powerful, and unforgettable.