Scandinavia: An Unexpected Treasure?

Oct 10, 2025
5 min read

Updated: Nov 22, 2025

If you'd told me three to five years ago that my career would one day involve a deep connection to Scandinavian culture, I'd have been...confused. Even though I had adored the "Vikings" course I took in undergrad, I still never would've guessed this would become such a meaningful part of my life.

I won't go too much into my job— only that it's opened up another side of history I hadn't found myself thinking about before. Two years into working with the company, I was invited to go to Denmark and Sweden for a work trip. I was so thrilled; I'd never left the country.

The first day we arrived in Copenhagen, it was snowing—how perfect for where we were. From my apartment window, I could see an old church and cobblestone streets below. I can't quite describe what it felt like to be wrapped up in a city I hadn't thought about since tenth grade geography. I adored the women I traveled with, but there were so many quiet moments where it was just me, the cold, the snow, and my mom. I wear a small necklace ingrained with her ashes, and in those still moments, I'd talk to her—ask if she was excited to.

Not long before that trip, I'd had major surgery that saved my sight. I was deeply grateful that I didn't miss a Copenhagen snowfall, even if my vision made it look sliiiightly funny.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/a1e249_4f5e3d3ba3e340fa8900bd333fafabf8/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

snowfall from our apartment

I remember being disappointed to hear that I'd just missed their fashion week, but I promised myself that one day, I'd return for it.

I tried to make out and take in every building, every detail I saw. The historian in me was in awe. I felt like I was walking through the architecture I see in my dreams. Because this was a work trip, I was able to experience Denmark in a way that felt more personal than tourist-y. I felt grounded and grateful to see it genuinely.

The food was incredible—I think I only had two meals that didn't come with an espresso martini. One night, I even had a frozen one with bacon on top???

We went to a few Michelin-starred restaurants, and the whole experience felt special to me. Even though I was technically there for work, mentally I was somewhere else—just me and, of course, Alicia. On our last day, a man played Moon River on the street, and all I could think about was Breakfast at Tiffany's—and my mom. It felt like he was playing it just for me as people walked by.

After Denmark, we spent a few days in this small town in Sweden. I hardly saw much of it—it felt like a blip—but the view from my window stayed with me. I often, VERY often, say I disassociate in life, and I mean it—I truly I do. It's exhausting and sad. It feels like someone else is playing a character for me when I step outside of my home. Then when I'm at home, it's quiet and time just flies and I don't remember half of the things I'd done. However, I call these moments my "little moments." Those seconds in time where you are reminded that you very much are alive and a person. While the trip itself jumpstarted something in me, waking me up

from the pain and the being stuck inside aspect of myself—that view just sent a jolt through me, giving me that little moment.

Our last stop was Stockholm. The whole city felt like art—intentionally or not, everything carried a sense of lightness. My coworkers and I were starting to get the homesick feelings so those final days were a bit more relaxed. My boss took me to the Vasa Museum, and I think I took a photo of every single angle of that ship—and uhhh...every artifact label? It was amazing, inspiring to stand so close to such an intense piece of history, to feel the energy of people who once stood on that deck almost 400 years ago. It is such a wild concept to know people were and now they're gone and we'll never know each other. Have I mentioned I love history?

The final evening felt like sipping wine at the end of a long, full day. Actually that's exactly how it ended. I had never been happier to experience somewhere new (says the Sagittarius sun).

I'd never really thought about Scandinavia until it became part of my work, and even then, I never felt the urge to go. But then I did—and there I was. For my first trip outside the country, it filled a quiet hole in me that I hadn't realized I'd been yearning to fill. Even if it was SUCH an interesting, unexpected ride—it changed me in ways I'm still unpacking.

I went to Scandinavia for work, but somehow, I came back a little more myself. Maybe we don't always choose the places that change us—maybe they choose us.

So, how do we know when a trip isn't just a getaway, but a gentle push toward who we're becoming?