From Mississippi to 69° North

I didn’t plan on ending up at the top of the world.

But here I am.

A Mississippi girl living above the Arctic Circle, learning that some of life’s biggest lessons come from slowing down, paying attention, and following the seasons.

Way Up Nord is where I share those lessons—through stories, books, meaningful travel, and everyday life in Northern Norway.

Before Norway, I was living in Tennessee with my husband and our young family. Life was comfortable and familiar. We had jobs, routines, and a future that looked very different from the one we live today.

Then life took an unexpected turn.

My husband is from Alta, Northern Norway, and eventually we made the decision to move north—to a place where winter darkness lasts for months, the midnight sun never sets in summer, and nature shapes daily life in ways I had never experienced before.

I won’t pretend the transition was easy. There were moments when I questioned everything.

But somewhere between the long winters, the changing seasons, and the slower pace of life, Northern Norway began to feel like home.

What Nobody Tells You About Living in the Arctic

What started as following my husband home turned into a life I never could have planned

What nobody tells you about living in the Arctic

One of the most common questions I get is what it’s really like to move from Mississippi to Northern Norway. The answer is more complicated, and more beautiful, than most people expect.

It gets under your skin in a way you don’t expect.

I thought I was moving somewhere dramatic and foreign.

And it is, don’t get me wrong. The Northern Lights are real, and they are ridiculous, and no photo does them justice, not ever. The polar night is real, too, and it’s strange and long and forces a kind of stillness on you whether you asked for it or not.

But what surprised me most wasn’t the darkness or the cold or even the light coming back in February like something you’d almost stopped believing in. What surprised me was how slow life is here. How intentional. How people actually go outside in January, on purpose, for fun, and call it friluftsliv, which roughly translates to “open air life” and is basically the Norwegian answer to everything.

I’ve been here for over a decade now.

I’ve worked as a guide. I’ve coordinated Arctic expeditions. I’ve watched my kids, who were so little when we arrived and are now full-blown teenagers who have grown up knowing only this life, become people who are fluent in two worlds in a way that still takes my breath away. They’ve never been back to the States since we moved here. Norway is simply home to them, in the most natural way possible.

And I’ve spent a lot of time sitting with the question of who I am in this place.

A Southerner in the Arctic. An American in Norway. Someone who misses sweet tea and also genuinely loves the dark.

The answer, I’ve decided, is: both things. Always both things.

When I´m not working or writing

ou’ll find me walking Baeivi along the Altafjord, usually in weather that has no business being walked in.

If I wasn’t living in Northern Norway,

there’s a good chance you’d find me wandering through a bookshop somewhere in Scotland.

MY IDEA OF SELF-CARE

A strong coffee, a good novel, and a window with something dramatic happening outside it.

When you stop looking for the highlight version and start living the real one.

This Is What I’m Really Writing About

Way Up Nord is where I write about it all.

Not the highlight version.

Not the “10 reasons to visit Northern Norway” version.

The real version.

The one that includes February darkness, mud season, and the particular joy of a good book when the weather is doing something dramatic outside.

I write about Nordic life the way I actually live it.

I write about books—especially Nordic fiction—because some of the best stories in the world are hiding on those shelves.

I write about slow travel, about what it means to truly be somewhere instead of simply passing through.

And I write about carrying a Southern identity in a Nordic landscape, what turns out to be a stranger and more interesting experience than I ever expected.

Over time, I’ve realized that the people who find their way here aren’t looking for a travel guide.

They’re looking for a feeling.

They want to understand a place, not just visit it.

They research before they go, ask the local questions, linger over one good meal instead of rushing through five.

If that’s you, welcome.

You’re going to feel right at home here.