I relocated to Sweden three years ago today. I could now apply for citizenship.
Having a Swedish
passport would certainly simplify crossing EU borders, and there are more than
a few world countries I’d like to visit that would be much easier (and cheaper)
to enter with a Swedish passport than a U.S. one.
That said, while I am now theoretically allowed to carry
dual citizenship, the U.S. really frowns upon it, particularly in this
situation. Many Americans who voluntarily apply for Swedish citizenship have
lost their American citizenship — and they didn’t even consider that
possibility when applying.
Furthermore, the vast majority of generous benefits enjoyed
by Swedish citizens — including healthcare and childcare that are heavily
subsidized by the government and a guaranteed pension — are also afforded to
those of us who hold permanent residence permits. I’m not chomping at the bit
to vote in Swedish national elections, so that doesn’t leave much motivation at
all for pursuing dual citizenship, considering the circumstances — as appealing
as the idea may sound. If Swedish citizenship is someday offered to me
unsolicited, that may be a different story. Swedish citizenship, unlike
American citizenship, can’t be revoked.
The Swedish government probably assumes that someone who has
cohabited with a Swede in Sweden for three years has fully assimilated and
deserves the privilege of citizenship.
I’m not so sure I would even deserve it, though. My
integration has been stalled for months by my own resistance to speaking
Swedish. I’ve been here long enough to develop a respectable understanding of
the language, and there are people both in my personal and professional circles
who speak Swedish to me and I answer in English. It seems to work well.
For the vast majority of immigrants in Sweden, securing
gainful employment is completely dependent on first mastering the language. I’ve
been fortunate enough to grow myself professionally here in a way I sometimes
doubt I would have even been able to if I had never left the States, relying on
my skills, experience and education. While it hinders others, I truly believe
that stubbornly sticking to English in Sweden has actually helped advance my
career.
I could likely live the rest of my life here without ever
speaking Swedish, but people would always view me as a “foreigner” speaking
English. Fluency in Swedish is crucial to social integration, and that’s the
real disadvantage about not speaking it.
As I reflect on these three years in Sweden, not making more
of an effort from day one to speak the language is probably my only regret —
and a shortcoming I understand I can choose to improve at any time.
Each of my three years in Sweden has been better than the
last. This year, I was granted permanent residency, put a ridiculously long train
commute in my past, moved to one of Europe’s most beautiful capital cities and
secured a second-hand contract for an ideal apartment in one of the world’s
most notoriously frustrating rental markets. I’m also two weeks away from
starting my new career with one of Sweden’s oldest and proudest engineering
companies.
I’m still happy that I chose to relocate to Sweden. Quality
of life is very high here. I’ve really learned to appreciate a different pace
of life, the breathtaking nature and the warm people as I’ve spent more time in
the country this year. After seven trips back to the States in my first 26
months, I’ve visited only twice in the past 10.
As the summer starts to wind down and we prepare for a fall
that always seems to be too short, I do wonder how I’ll handle another cold,
dark and depressing winter ahead. I used to live for the snowy months — I even
had the vanity license plate on my Subaru to prove it. (God, I miss that plate.)
Maybe it’s that I’ve been snowboarding a whopping three times in three winters
here — after tallying as many as a few dozen days a season in Tahoe several
years ago? I’m not sure.
I do know that the benefits of living
in Sweden still far outweigh the negatives, and until that changes, I’ll
continue to enjoy life here as an expat.