.Born for Spring, Living in Winter

A (mostly one-sided) love-hate story with northern weather

I wasn’t made for this.
Not for sleet in May, sideways rain in July, or the emotional trauma of checking the weather app and seeing six types of grey.
I was made for sun-warmed benches, bare ankles in April, the smell of lilacs, and that feeling of sitting outside with sunglasses on and absolutely no reason to get up.

But I live in northern Norway.
Which means… I’m learning how to bloom in the dark.

Let me put it simply:
I am a spring-summer person living in a late-November reality.
And no one gave me a manual.

The kind of person who buys floral dresses in February just to feel something.
The kind of person who smiles involuntarily at the first patch of sunlight hitting the kitchen floor.
The kind of person who measures happiness in degrees Celsius, preferably anything over 15.

So naturally… I ended up above the Arctic Circle. 😅

☁️ Let’s talk about getting dressed.

Getting dressed here is an Olympic sport.
You don’t “pick an outfit,” you strategize for survival.

Layers? Yes.
Wool? Always.
Raincoat on a sunny day? Better safe than soaked.

I used to care about color palettes and fabrics.
Now I just pray my boots aren’t leaking.
I wear so many layers in winter that by the time I peel them off, I’ve forgotten why I went outside in the first place.

Once, I wore leggings under jeans under windproof pants.
I called it my Norwegian lasagna. 🍂

🌬 The wind has opinions. Loud ones.

You haven’t really lived up north until the wind slaps your soul.
It doesn’t blow.
It attacks.

One day I opened the front door, took one step out, and the wind just said “No.”
I stepped back inside and made tea.
Respect.

🌞 But then… there’s that one golden day.

And it’s always unexpected.
It sneaks up in mid-June like an apology.
Suddenly — the sky is blue, the air is soft, and your body remembers what it feels like to be warm without a heat lamp.

You run outside. Everyone does.
People appear out of nowhere with grills and strawberries and joy.
Someone wears shorts at 11°C just to prove a point.
You put your face to the sun like a sunflower, and for a moment — everything is forgiven.

And then… it rains again.
Naturally.

💛 What I’ve learned:

Living in a climate that doesn’t match your soul is… complicated.
But it teaches you things.

It teaches you that joy can’t wait for ideal conditions.
That warmth isn’t always external.
That sometimes, the only sunshine you get is the one you create — in your kitchen, in your stories, in the way you wrap your children in blankets and love.

It teaches you to celebrate the absurd.
To romanticize the faktisk sol notification.
To throw a picnic on wet grass just because it’s not snowing.

I still don’t love the endless grey.
Or the cold that sneaks into your bones.
Or the sadness that sometimes comes uninvited with the clouds.

But I’m learning.
To carry spring within me, even when the skies forget what blue looks like.
To dress for battle but look for beauty.
To laugh at the chaos and keep writing — because writing is where it’s always warm.

And someday, when I bloom again — fully, wildly, under a real sun —
I’ll know I earned it.

– by.ordinarywoman