I was born in '79, I was among those who should have done the infamous "conscription service." Regarding this, I want to tell you about something that happened to me. A rather incredible thing.

At the age of 19, having returned from boarding school in France, I enrolled in the faculty of computer science in Milan. I passed some exams, but I soon realized that by following that path I would never realize my real dream: to create video games. One night, watching Rai 3 and seeing the actors having fun in LIIT (Italian League of Theatrical Improvisation), I decided to give it a try myself. I started with an evening class and from there I entered the prestigious school of the Teatro Stabile di Genova.

I tell you this because, after I got into the Stabile, I stopped my university studies, and the military soon came calling for me to join the military. I, naively, said I was attending another school. But when I said it was a "theater" school, the look on their faces was more than enough to let me know that I had run into a dead end.

"Your theater school is not recognized for deferring military service." They told me. To which, since I at the time had dual Italian-French citizenship (I was born in Paris, my father is Italian and my mother is French) I replied with a "All right, then I guess I'll mean I'll do it in France."

You must know that in France military service had been cancelled! And so I was convinced that I had escaped the iron militre discipline. But a few months later, a phone call froze my blood.

"Since you don't do military service in France, you have to do it in Italy."

Impossible to ask for leave. Impossible to ask for a deferment. My dream of acting was about to be shattered in front of a dying bureaucracy! I was the last draft to have to serve in the military! What could I do? Did I really have a choice?

A lawyer told me there was a solution, but it wasn't very simple-I would have to give up my Italian citizenship. Having two, I would not end up stateless. He explained that I had very little time, and to do that, I had to go to the Italian embassy in France, in Paris.

So I left alone for Paris and showed up at the embassy, dressed in a T-shirt, jeans my shaggy hair and glasses. "I want to renounce my Italian citizenship," I said.

The secretary looked at me furrowing her brow, "All right, you can come next Thursday." she said, setting me an appointment.

So the next Thursday I showed up on time, ready to sign anything so I could finally follow my dream. I walked into the ambassador's large office, with a large mahogany desk, above which was a large document, a huge sheet of paper, with a myriad of things written on it that I didn't read, that was the gist anyway.

"Where do I sign?" I asked. The ambassador (I think it was him) pointed to where to sign, then the secretary added. "Where are your witnesses?""

"My what?" I asked dazed by the news.

"Your witnesses. Two witnesses are needed."

I swallowed. "Yikes, I didn't know that." I sounded like a Pozzetto movie.

I walked out of the office and looked to see if there were people willing to be my witnesses to renounce Italian citizenship. I found a nice couple who offered to help me.

In short, I signed, and you know the rest of the story, I became an actor in Italy, and I actively participate in the artistic growth of the country I adore, unfortunately not as an Italian, but as a foreigner.

It seems to be a recurring theme in my life: I am a foreigner even in my own home .