Bridgette Kennedy

"...as I look back, I see that every hectic moment, every new connection, every challenge was a brick in the foundation of the life I’m building here. Just as 'Lagom' represents the perfect middle ground, I found that building a community here required a balance between giving and receiving, blending into local customs while maintaining my own identity. It’s been messy, it’s been hard, but it’s also been beautiful. Sweden isn’t just where I live now—it’s home. And every day, I’m finding my place in it."

Building Blocks: My Journey to Finding Community in Lund

Moving to a new country is like stepping into the unknown, a mix of excitement and fear. For me, this journey was driven by the need to find a more stable and secure environment for my family. After spending over 30 years on the vibrant island of Sri Lanka, my husband and I made the difficult decision to start a new chapter in Sweden, bringing our one-year-old son with us. When you move to a new country, one of the first things you do is learn how the locals go about their daily lives. For me, it all started with a book: Culture Shock! Sweden: A survival Guide to Customs and Etiquette. I thought I was prepared for what lay ahead. But nothing could have truly prepared me for the journey that followed.

Burek and Soup

We left the warmth of Sri Lanka behind and arrived in Sweden at the height of winter, feeling the cold January winds brush against our cheeks. After dragging our heavy suitcases up three flights of stairs, battling with the lock on our new apartment door for what felt like forever, we were drained. That’s when a young couple, our new neighbors, saw us struggling and offered a hand. I’ll never forget the moment they knocked on our door an hour later with a plate of burek and a bowl of soup, saying they knew how tired we must be and we might not have the energy to cook. It was one of the warmest welcomes we received in Sweden. Though we’ve since moved, we still meet up, and our children enjoy playdates together. It was in this moment that I learned how much opening up to those around you could help, especially in a new place where even small gestures of kindness feel monumental. Connecting with neighbors became an important part of feeling at home.

The Post-It Note

Still adjusting to the chill of winter, one of our first priorities was getting a stroller for our son. As I wandered through the streets of Lund, I stumbled upon a tiny second-hand shop specializing in children’s clothing. I walked in, nervous but determined, and asked the manager where I could find a "barnvagn"—one of the first Swedish words I learned. Instead of sending me on my way with vague directions, she pulls out a Post-it note and writes down a whole list of second-hand shops like Erikshjalpen, Emmaus - Lund, complete with directions as well as some tips for using Facebook Marketplace—all on a little yellow Post-it note.

Coming from Sri Lanka, where second-hand shopping is rare, this was a revelation. We were used to living on credit, chasing a lifestyle that wasn’t always sustainable. But here, I was learning something different. Yes, a Post-it note turned into my treasure map, leading me to a stroller that’s still rolling strong two years later—it was a lesson on how to embrace a more sustainable, grounded way of life.

I saw this further reflected in something as simple as the milk cartons in Sweden labeled 'mellan mjölk' (medium milk), embodying the concept of Lagom—not too much, not too little, just right. This principle of moderation and sustainability became a guiding force in adapting to my new life, helping me find balance and a sense of belonging in Sweden.

Breaking The Ice

By April, as the weather began to soften, so did my fears about settling into this new life. We had enrolled our son in a Swedish preschool, marking a new chapter in our journey. I was anxious about how he’d adjust, and during our first meeting, a teacher had a colleague translate everything into English. It was such a relief. With my son in preschool, I had time to start looking for a job. Most job listings required Swedish language skills, so I enrolled in an SFI Course. (Swedish for Immigrants)

A few months later, I ran into the same teacher who had just returned from her summer break. This time, I conversed with her in my clumsy, newly-acquired Swedish. Her response shocked me—she was overjoyed, and she gave me a hug. A hug! In Sweden, where personal space is practically a national treasure and hugs are reserved for only the closest of friends, this felt huge.

That moment hit me hard. It was proof that even the smallest efforts to learn the language, to fit in, were noticed and appreciated. It was a reminder that every little step forward matters, that we were bridging the gap between two very different worlds, one word at a time.

“The One Where They Started a Book Club”

One of the best things that came out of my SFI class was the group of friends I made from all over the world. As the warmth of summer settled in, a few of us decided to start a book club, reading chapters of a Swedish novel and meeting regularly to discuss it. Soon, our gatherings turned into potlucks with wine, music, and dancing. It quickly became a “book club” without the books!

We shared our struggles, our victories, and everything in between. I realized that these friendships were becoming my new family, helping me navigate the ups and downs of life in a foreign country. They were proof that you can find home, even when you’re far from where you started.

Take a Chance! Take a Chance!

As the crisp October air set in, I found myself in a classroom alone, facing two Swedish teachers evaluating my beginner-level spoken Swedish for the SFI national exam.

The question was simple: “If you could meet a famous person today, who would it be, and what would you ask them?”

My mind went blank. I couldn’t think of any world leaders or icons to impress them with, so I just blurted out what was in my heart: ABBA. I grew up with their music, and here I was, in the land where it all began. My answer got the teachers smiling, and one even started humming a tune.

In that moment, I realized that embracing the local culture, even through something as simple as music, was a way to connect, to feel like I belonged. A week later, when I found out I had passed, it wasn’t just a pass. It was validation that I was embracing the culture, one iconic pop song at a time. I was on the right path, leaning into the Swedish way of life, and that maybe, just maybe, I was starting to fit in.

Strange Encounters

December in Lund is magical. One evening one of my “book club friends” and I headed out to enjoy one of the many events of the season and share a bit of Christmas cheer. By the time we walked back home it was close to midnight and the whole city was asleep. We were talking about music, and before we knew it, we started singing “These Are the Days of Our Lives” by Queen. Because why not? The cobblestone streets of Lund were our stage. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a passerby joined in the singing, and then another, creating a spontaneous quartet of strangers under the starry December sky.

That night will always stay with me. It was a reminder to let go, to be open to the unexpected, to embrace the beauty in random moments. Sometimes, it’s the unplanned, unfiltered connections that leave the deepest mark.

Launching My Career with a 'Kick Start'

In spring 2024, while trying to find my footing in Lund, I discovered International Citizen Hub Lund, ICHL. It was exactly what I needed—a community of English-speaking expats who were navigating the same challenges. One event, the “Job Search Safari,” was a game-changer. It wasn’t just about finding a job; it was about understanding the unspoken rules of Swedish work culture.

Through ICHL’s Kick Start program, I built a network, learned the ropes, and got a crash course in what it takes to succeed in Sweden. It taught me that finding the right support system is crucial when you’re trying to build a career in a new country.

Cultural Fusion: Finding Unity in Diversity

Around the same time, I got involved with Interkultur I Lund, an organization focused on helping internationals integrate. It became a significant part of my journey, offering me the chance to volunteer and eventually complete an internship. I wasn’t just learning new skills; I was discovering the power of cultural exchange. Organizing events, planning activities, working alongside people from all over the world—it showed me that community is about more than just speaking the same language. It’s about shared values, shared experiences, and a shared commitment to making everyone feel at home.

The Gift of Time

Eager to contribute further, I sought out volunteer opportunities and signed up to be a workshop leader for the Swedish Red Cross Youth Association. The workshops were conducted in Swedish, and although my language skills weren’t advanced enough to lead a session, I was happy to help with logistics—distributing materials, organizing the venue, and observing how the sessions unfolded.

But then, on the first day, I was asked to co-lead a workshop, playing the role of an English-speaking official from the Swedish Migration Authority. Despite my initial nerves, the experience was both challenging and rewarding. A few weeks later, I had the opportunity to co-conduct the same workshop in English for Danish Red Cross officials in Copenhagen. It was thrilling to see participants from different backgrounds engage so deeply with the discussions. Being part of these efforts to build resilient communities was incredibly fulfilling.

Volunteering showed me that giving your time isn’t just about helping others—it’s about finding purpose, building connections, and realizing that you have something valuable to offer, no matter where you come from or what language you speak.

Looking Back

For a few weeks in spring 2024, I found myself running—literally—through the streets of Lund, rushing between SFI classes, my internship, Kick Start sessions at ICHL, Red Cross meetings, and networking events—all while juggling a hundred to-do lists in my head, from job searching to managing a household and keeping up with the constant demands of a lively two-year-old.

But now, as I look back, I see that every hectic moment, every new connection, every challenge was a brick in the foundation of the life I’m building here. Just as 'Lagom' represents the perfect middle ground, I found that building a community here required a balance between giving and receiving, blending into local customs while maintaining my own identity. It’s been messy, it’s been hard, but it’s also been beautiful. Sweden isn’t just where I live now—it’s home. And every day, I’m finding my place in it.

/ Bridgette Kennedy

To the Linkedin profile of Bridgette Kennedy