From Rags to Riches

I chose my job as a Renewable Energy Procurement Manager in Svalbard, a Norwegian archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, typically to deconstruct my life and start from scratch. Life here can be challenging during winters as snowstorms and avalanches are common during those times, and there is no sunlight, so I prefer to stay and work here only during the summers. In winter, I move down South.

My name is Doris Huber. I was born in 1990 into a stinking rich business family in Burgenland, Austria.

My father was a humorless, stern, opinionated man. My mother was bedridden with paralysis, and I had never seen her move almost from my birth. If you want to blame these circumstances, I had all the right reasons to grow up to be a spoiled, egotistic minx. But I had lots of friends to party with, pubs being a routine as a teenager, and I had a rising social media fan club.

My home where I grew up was a fairly sized mansion with big rooms that were flooded with modern-day furniture; I opened my eyes to an extravagant, burgundy flower wallpapered room, which modern-day interior designers would refer to as tacky and expensive; all of the rooms had large bay windows which were wrapped with heavy silk drapery to keep away from the main streets' working class.

The wood-carved imposing archways led to the gallery hall in the middle of the house, with the library, music, and entertainment rooms to the left and the living room, extended living room, and other conference rooms to the right; all covered with huge Persian rugs and illuminated with fancy Tiffany lights which my father thought augmented the glory and grandeur of our family. His love for art turned into an obsession as all the rooms started filling up with wall art, chandeliers, sculptures, and souvenirs, big and bold to add an extra oomph factor and a layer of detail, making each room consciously unique. The colored stained glass of the windows and twines of the curtains made the rooms look too dark; some of the rooms even had multiple layers of wallpaper like the many-layered characters around who never resonated with my heart.

Depending on nobility, access to the rooms was determined; however, the family lived on the secluded top floors with 3 layered security and tumultuous privacy. The dining room was at the same level and was for formal occasions. The Italian marble-topped table with velvet chairs could cater to around 20 guests, but kids were never allowed as they would create a nuisance, and hence my daily meal plans were taken care of by the several attendants who worked for us. The only thing I liked was the beautifully manured porch in the front of our house, which had lilacs, tulips, bougainvillea, and all the seasonal flowers. Though we had gardeners toiling throughout the day, we never touched the tenderness of the leaves, relished the blossoming of new flowers, or had storytime in the afternoons on the herbaceous porch. It was more like a sophisticated showpiece.

By the time I grew up, I realized the realms of our richness were falling apart, and there were whispers of debt, arguments about money in the conference rooms, and even threat calls on my father's cell phone.

Amongst all these, the only awkward thing was my job.

It could have been sheer luck the hereditary sharp brain or ignorance from my family that led me to an extremely boring job as a chemical engineer in a well-known company in Germany. But, more than financial independence, I wanted to escape the regular tantrums at home.

At work, I met Stefan Miller, a senior researcher in my department, and everything seemed to have changed for good after that.

Stefan was a charmer; his nonchalant gaze and modest gestures would make the girls fall for him. I loved how his eyes sparkled as he would be lost listening to my genius ideas and trying to hide them with a coquettish smile. We worked on a project together that required the commission of hybrid power plants from solar energy.

We started falling for each other within a short period; When we started dating, our love story's sizzling chemistry and gossip were not restricted to our department only.

But this dreamlike state was short-lived as the project started in full swing  I started missing the freshness in our relationship. It became mundane. The sparkle in his eyes was lost; his hands felt colder, and his lips barely touched mine.

Then came a phase of ignorance and pain, loneliness, and vulnerability, fear and fight, and then anger and assault.

The solar panel commission was completed after 3 years, but I was still striving for a ray of hope, happiness, and freedom.

Finally, on November 15th, 2014, I decided to quit my job and him.

Probably to escape my past toxic relationship, I invested more into work during the days and extensive parties and alcohol at night. I moved from Germany to London to Italy to Sweden by changing jobs. I had fallen in and out of love many times after my first relationship, but it seemed I had become more used to nothingness.

Initially, you do not realize when you are lost; you think you will find the way till a point arrives when you realize that there is no returning point. Then you want to seek help, but I was born as a stubborn independent who did not know how to ask for help, so I had to turn inwards.

After moving to Sweden, I would go trekking in the woods. Here I have witnessed the enthralling beauty of nature and Aurora skies. I would often follow the trails of a stream and sit there watching the baby ducklings following up on their mother. From the wild wilderness to blooming meadows with orange, pink, and purple wildflowers, the woods are a flourishing habitat of many plants, animals, insects, and fungi.

Sometimes you would meet unknown smiling faces of hikers on the way. But I tried my best to avoid any eye contact with them. In winter, I took smaller walks as it was dark almost all day long, and as you stepped out through the pristine, white snow, your feet sank slightly more with each movement.

It seemed as if Nature was slowly trying to heal me, but sudden thoughts would pop out of the blue in my mind and burst the bubble of serenity. 

One day during the summer, I went for a walk in the early morning to the lake where I used to sit and gaze at the beauty of Nature; that day the fog gave the lake an ethereal appearance, so I thought of taking a swim. I plunged in, the splash of cold water on my face was surprisingly soothing. I kept going a bit deep; the blue waters seemed to embrace me in their curls.

I kept moving deeper into the lake; the water current began to increase but was still harmless. I swam for some time, and just when I thought of going back, I realized my legs dragged me. I had been a confident swimmer, but this was a whirlpool. The water was hauling me down; I tried to swim with all the strength I had in my body, but in vain. What seemed to be a beautiful tranquil lake engulfed me in its death trap; my body ached, desperate for air I felt dizzy.

There was extreme pain in my chest as if the cells in my lungs had given up on their job. The water was saline and cold, and my body was lifeless as I realized I was sinking.

I had felt hopeless as a child when I could not stand by my mother.

I felt hopeless when I could not stand up for myself at work.

I felt hopeless when I was cheated in my relationships.

But this hopelessness had the momentum to set me free from pain.

Half unconscious, I tried to bounce back, moving my arms and feet fanatically. All I knew was I must make it this time. But, with one more swirl, the pain in my body tripled as if the waves crushed my bones. A gazillion hours passed by when I could finally see the banks.

It took me some months to get over the trauma, but I finally managed.

The death-like experience taught me the only thing that mattered was I still wanted to live.

So, did I heal?

The cold waters opened my senses at a much deeper level which I had numbed over the years to fit into society. Unknowingly I was living in denial. It took me quite some time to realize your life is your making but instead, I was always looking for someone to blame for my not-so-perfect life. At times we put a lot of effort into taking control of everything around us but all goes in vain as life flows in and out with a gasp of air.

Recently, I moved to Svalbard; One of the main reasons for me moving to this place was to explore the abundance and richness of Nature, enjoy slow living, and look for happiness within. Here by coming close to Nature, one thing I realized is that everything around me is literally mine, and yet I have nothing to lose.