Guest of Very true, the imitator retraces the (painful) stages of her growth and explains how important it is, finally, to have succeeded in regaining her serenity, lost for years. Moreover, he reveals that his love for imitations comes precisely from the discomfort tied to an unstable family.
As a young girl I locked myself up in my room so as not to hear what was happening around me. I was imitating my sister to keep things out of my mind that a little girl couldn't hear.
This is how Francesca Manzini explains, starting on dramatic story from his childhood and adolescence:
There was so much imbalance in my house: my mother and my father were people who never knew how to relate to each other. They taught me evil, but this was good, because when they teach you evil they instill in you the survival instinct, the stimulus to go on.
Manzin continues, with a broken voice, returning the portrait of a dysfunctional family in which she, still a child, was saved by taking refuge in the his world made of videos, films and imitations.
In my house there were no rules, teachings, values. There has been so much psychological violence, even in forms like silence, which is a very bad thing. I spoke to myself in my room. For me it was like a shell: I closed myself there and watched old movies.
To build a relationship with parents, little Francesca tried, but said she found two walls in front of her.
I tried, but I could never talk to them. I never received a hug from my dad, I asked him, but it was difficult for him. One day he told me: "I am not capable". And in the end I understood: my mom had closed because she was grieving for her father, my father never knew how to express love. Yet they were people who raised me in their own way.
The consequences of thatchildhood and adolescence without love they were very heavy for Francesca who, for years, entered the dark tunnels of anorexia, bulimia and abuse.
I didn't experience my anorexia as a punishment. It was more like letting go: something even worse. At one point everything broke, they separated: I had no examples, I was a vagabond. I frequented ugly people, I drank. And there was more, not just alcohol. But I went out alone, looking at me, listening to me. When you arrive at the abyss the survival instinct is luckily triggered.
In her dramatic story, between tears, Francesca Manzini admits that, in such a state of desperation, it even happened to her having thought of extreme gestures. All things that now the young and brilliant imitator has left behind. His final message, in fact, is full of hope and positivity.
Living is a huge responsibility. Life is beautiful. It was not easy to get out of my crap, I had to do everything by myself. Today I listen to myself and reinvent myself continuously. Living is beautiful. I used to see myself as a tired woman. Now it is no longer so: it saves me who recognizes my passion. And to my parents I say thanks, because with their incapacities they have made me, instead, capable of loving.
The wound of the relationship, never recovered with the father, remains painful. It is no coincidence that Francesca Manzini closes her interview with a song that could not be more meaningful: Men do not change.