When people think of Finnishness, they often picture the sauna, sisu, or ice hockey. Others imagine quiet forests and the calm of solitude. For me, being Finnish isn’t just one thing, it’s a collection of small, everyday moments that shape how I live and see the world.
I see Finnishness in the little moments of my life:
Sitting quietly next to someone on the bus, feeling no need to fill the silence with words.
Enjoying a cup of coffee made by someone else, even after you’ve said, “You don’t need to make it for me.”
Starting small talk with the weather, naturally.
Keeping a respectful one meter distance in stores, even before COVID.
Politely declining treats at first, only to take them anyway.
Family ties in Finland are shown through actions more than words. A father may not say “I love you” every day, but he’ll change the winter tires without asking. A mother will pack enough food to fill the fridge, even when you try to refuse. At grandma’s, there’s always too much food, and if you don’t take seconds, she’ll ask the classic question: “Didn’t you like it?”
Friendships in Finland is sitting together with a cup of coffee, complaining about the weather, yet knowing the other person will listen when things get serious. It’s shared evenings filled with laughter as loud as the sauna stove’s hiss. Friendships isn’t measured by the number of messages. Sometimes weeks of silence end with one simple text: “Should we go out?” and of course, you go. Finnish friendship is quiet, uncomplicated, and honest, which is why it feels so strong.
To me, Finnishness is a blend of peace, laughter, and safety. It’s quiet moments in nature, perseverance in daily life, and a lighthearted humor that makes even the toughest days a little easier.
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