“We Needed A Circuit Breaker”
You rarely hear about somebody who has a dream job and a settled family who decides to throw that up in the air and move overseas for 18 months. TV and radio personality Kate Langbroek did just that, heading to Bologna, Italy, with her husband and their four children.
I didn’t want to write a book. A publisher spoke to me a few times over the years about doing one, but I was working and had four little kids and was doing radio full-time – I didn’t think I had it in me. I hate memoirs written by people who aren’t 100, so I didn’t want to write about my life. But when we were in Italy I knew, as we were living it, that it was something quite extraordinary, both on a micro and macro level – the joy, the excitement, the trepidation, the reward, and that glorious country. I wanted to keep a record for my family. Back in Australia, I would go upstairs to write and say to [husband] Peter, “Oh my goodness, I’m going to Italy for a couple of hours!”
I was raised in a really strict religion, Jehovah’s Witnesses, which I left when I was 18. I thought that because I didn’t believe in that, I couldn’t believe in anything. At some point in my life I realised that I was not done with [spirituality] and it was not done with me. My parents also left the Jehovah’s Witnesses and went to a Dutch church when they moved to Melbourne. When a church does what it’s supposed to do, it’s a beautiful thing. I don’t know what to call it, but I do have this faith and it’s stood me in good stead – walking through life and feeling like you’re not on your own. Atheism is the most sneering religion. I often wish that there was a church for people like me – just a fellowship. I want a Kanye Sunday service. But I don’t like sermons.
Why did I give up a great job to live in Italy? It comes back to faith. I just knew, the same way I knew when I left the Jehovah’s Witnesses at 18 and people said, “That’s really brave.” It wasn’t brave, because I had no option. It wasn’t that I wasn’t scared, but I had to leave. This was similar – I knew I had to do it. Even when Peter said, “You won’t be able to stop working, you love your job”, I said, “I will”. The more we spoke it into existence, the stronger my resolve became. The hardest thing was to tell [radio co-host] Hughesy. He couldn’t understand it. He’s such a remarkable person but it was like a woman saying to her husband after 20 years of marriage, “I’m leaving you”. He says, “We’re really happy!” and she says, “I want more.” It was very similar! It was the antithesis of anything he understands because he’s a proper, true workaholic; he would turn up and do stand-up in your lounge room for nothing. But my compulsion was to stop working, and he trusts and loves me enough to know I meant it.
““We chose to have a family and I understand there’s privilege inherent in this, but we hardly had time for anything and even things we were supposed to enjoy were exhausting. We wanted to change things.””
Obviously, we must have thought our lives were missing something but it wasn’t conscious, because our lives were great. We had a happy, vigorous family life. But Peter and I both felt the need for a circuit breaker. There was a desire for more time – you know, how hard it is for people working, and children and schools and everything’s on the line, and what’s your password and kids wanting tech and shopping and blah, blah, blah. We chose to have a family and I understand there’s privilege inherent in this, but we hardly had time for anything and even things we were supposed to enjoy were exhausting. We wanted to change things.
I think I do have a good marriage but I almost don’t like to talk about it. You don’t want to be Tom Cruise jumping on the couch. But Peter is an extraordinary ordinary person who comes from a beautiful family. He’s a working dog – he’s constantly working for the family. I remember reading some advice in a book years ago that said when you’re talking to your male partner, you have to say, “I want …” Women never say this. We always say, “Could you …?” or “Would you mind …?” But this book was saying that men are kind of hardwired to be problem solvers, and when they love you, they want to do for you. I tried it with Peter and it’s really powerful. When I say, “You know darling, what I really want is…” he really hears me. It’s so direct and that can feel quite uncomfortable. I think women are increasingly spending a lot of our time with other women, and we are very anticipatory of each other’s needs and wants; that’s one of our strong suits as women. Then we expect men to be anticipatory of our needs and drop hints, and [then] we say, “He should have known that…”
I felt differently about myself in Italy. A friend of mine put it brilliantly: she said in Australia they want you to be middle-aged, but in Italy they want you to be beautiful. You see old women over there in their 80s and they’re wearing sparkly earrings from Zara, and you go, “I don’t recall that happening in Australia.” People will comment on what you’re wearing and how you look no matter your age – a stranger will say “You look beautiful” – and they’re very generous with people making an effort. Whereas here, at a certain age, you’re told there’s no point in making an effort. They don’t despise age in Europe and you see older women looking beautiful everywhere.
Italy changed us. What I’ve learnt is to try and give myself time whenever I can – that’s the biggest gift you can give yourself, and it’s also one of the hardest – and to try to elevate yourself the way Italians do. Italians hold beauty as such a high principle … it’s not a shallow, Kardashian pursuit. It’s a soul pursuit, and so they make things beautiful everywhere. And they cherish old people and old buildings and so you try to bring those principles back with you slightly, even though I come from the nation of people who wear thongs and Ugg boots. A girlfriend of mine said I’ve always got Italy in my back pocket, and I have.
Ciao Bella! Six Take Italy is published by Simon & Schuster Australia, $32.99.