Synopsis

Every evening, Martina opens her notebook and decides whether to color a box based on how her day went. If she leaves it blank, it was a good day; if it's black, the opposite. There's no middle ground. That's just how she is. For now, the balance is rather negative: she's thirty-four and has an unfulfilling job, she can't have a child, and her partner doesn't want to get married or buy a house. Martina knows that homes aren't just walls, but snapshots of various stages of life. There's the childhood home, which offers us protection; the home where we first lived alone or in a shared home, synonymous with freedom and uncertainty. Then there's the final home, the one for which we take out a mortgage that will last us the rest of our days. It's a major step: it means truly growing up and emerging from the limbo of "half-adulthood." Martina wishes she wasn't one anymore, but instead she still feels very much like one. When her parents put the house where she grew up up for sale, and an invitation to an old friend's wedding reopens a door to her past, Martina sees all her certainties crumble. Suddenly, beyond black and white, the myriad colors of the rainbow explode, and what seemed like essential goals lose their meaning. Martina discovers that, as we grow older, we proceed tentatively, make mistakes, distance ourselves from the horizon, and sometimes even change it entirely. Therefore, it's important to enjoy the journey rather than focus solely on the destination, to feel at home rather than choose which house to live in.