🚨 POSITIVE UPDATE from Damiano’s David: Following surgery, the Måneskin frontman finally shared a deeply personal message—“The road to recovery is…”

 

POSITIVE UPDATE from Damiano’s David: Following surgery, the Måneskin frontman finally shared a deeply personal message—“The road to recovery is…”

 

The road to recovery is never a straight line, but today I’m grateful to finally say that I’m on it, and I’m moving forward with strength I didn’t know I had. After the surgery, the first days were overwhelming—physically, emotionally, and mentally. I kept waking up thinking about how fragile everything felt, how suddenly life can shift, and how easily we forget to listen to our own bodies until they force us to stop.

 

I’ve always been the kind of person who pushes through anything: pain, exhaustion, doubt. I’ve lived most of my life in motion—stages, airports, studios, and the noise of a thousand expectations. But when your body calls for help, you learn to be still. You learn to breathe slower, to accept assistance, to trust the people around you, and to allow yourself to heal without guilt.

 

Over the last weeks, I’ve had to face fears I didn’t know I still carried. I’ve had to relearn patience, something that does not come naturally to me. I had days when I felt strong and days when I woke up wondering if I’d ever feel like myself again. But in those moments, something unexpected happened: the noise quieted. For the first time in a long time, I heard my own voice clearly—not the voice that sings or performs, but the voice inside me that I’ve ignored for too long.

 

That voice told me to slow down. It told me to trust this process. It told me that vulnerability is not weakness but honesty. And it told me that healing is not only physical—it’s emotional, too.

 

The messages, letters, and words you’ve sent me during this time have meant more than I can express. Some of you shared your own stories of recovery, fear, strength, and survival. Some simply wrote that you were thinking of me. All of it helped. Truly. I have read everything I could, even on the days when I didn’t have the energy to reply. Please know that you were with me in those long nights and quiet mornings.

 

I’m still recovering, step by step, but today feels like a turning point. Today I woke up and felt hope instead of fear. I felt gratitude instead of frustration. I felt like myself—not the version you see onstage, but the real me. And that’s a gift I don’t take lightly.

 

Thank you for your love, your patience, and your belief in me. I promise that when I return—whether it’s to the stage, to the studio, or simply to the world—I will come back grounded, grateful, and stronger than before.

 

The road to recovery is long, but I’m walking it with a full heart. And I’m not walking it alone.