Opinion
Summer, sun, adventure? Not for me!
by Debora Pape
Winter, I’m giving you one last chance
16.11.2025
Translation: Elicia Payne
As soon as the leaves turn yellow and I need a sweater, I know that winter’s on its way. And with it my biannual low mood. But this time I’m changing it up!
Where once the glitter of Christmas lights lit up my eyes, it is now a mere dull haze framed by tired, deep dark circles. Winter broke me. Many years ago. But this year I’m getting my joy back. Yep, you heard it here first, folks.
Once upon a time: the most wonderful time of the year
Nothing could beat my holy December. The Christmas tree was decorated and home-made Advent calendar bags dangled between spruce branches on the stairs – and the sweet smell of freshly baked cinnamon stars spread throughout the apartment. My mum knew how to bring Advent to life.
I used to sit by the window, looking out into the distance, with the chatter of the Christmas special episode of my favourite cartoons in the background, wishing for the first snowflake. I felt like I’d been wrapped in the cosiest blanket for thirty-one days. And then came the best bit: family around the festively decorated table, good food and presents. I’d count down to that very special day.
All was right in the world.
Source: Shutterstock/New Africa
And then… I grew up
The first time I was at war with winter was during my apprenticeship. An hour and a half commute, twice a day, five times a week. Work started at 7.30 a.m. Life’s not easy at the bottom, but that felt like a sick joke. I left the house in the dark. And left the office in the dark. Work, cold, darkness, repeat.
And at the weekend? Fog.
At some point, I realised winter’s not the real enemy, but this grey, heavy mass that covers the sun at this cold time of year. «This stupid fog. How come it never moves?» I’d think to myself. Nature’s version of doom and gloom. It’s not like rain showers or storms. No. That passes. Fog seems to be here to stay. Forever.
Suppression instead of confrontation
I could never accept winter in the city. Grey concrete, grey snow, grey fog. Grey, grey, grey and more grey. I gave winter the cold shoulder and went underground instead – to clubs, where it’s neither day nor night. No thick cloud of gloom could drag me down there. At most the next morning, when me, the stragglers and last bits of glass were shoved out the front door and greeted with the same bleak sky. But then I’d just go to bed and sleep through the rest of the day.
I kept escaping like this for quite a long time. And of course, all of this made me feel even worse than before. And yes, it’s obvious underlying tiredness is a recipe for low mood, but alternatives such as «at least an hour a day in the forest, skiing or a trip to the sun» weren’t an option for me in a normal working week.
So, I got caught up in a maelstrom of an ever-growing aversion to winter.
Something has to change
Sometimes I’d find myself mourning summer as early as August. Instead of enjoying the moment, I’d make plans for how I could turn my life around so I could move south from November to March. Or maybe I could finally open a grotto in Ticino where the sun shines even in winter, that’d be something. Too bad, I don’t speak Italian. But perhaps an apartment in Graubünden is enough. Oh but the sun usually disappears behind the hills just as early there as it does here. Dammit.
Source: Stefanie Lechthaler
No matter how much I try to control it, the only way to get through the cold half of the year is to accept it.
The fact it goes dark early forces you to think of something useful to do during the hours inside. So, here I am at ten past five in the afternoon – while the supposed sunset has already passed – researching realistic activities winter’s particularly suitable for.
And I do, in fact, find what I’m looking for.
Acceptance is the first step to improvement
Guides I’ve read suggest winter walks and meeting up with friends. Okay, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that. But I suppose they’re doable activities. Unless, of course, I’m having a rough patch. Then I also find these things difficult. Now it’s pitch dark outside. And that’s where the next piece of advice comes in: «make yourself really comfortable at home, enjoy the time when no one outside has fears of missing out, and let yourself enjoy the peace and quiet.»
Do nothing? Not that easy for me.
Nevertheless, the advice triggers something in me. Suddenly I have the urge to turn the big light off, light two candles and start the first winter jazz playlist on YouTube. Then I lean back behind my computer screen and watch the candlelight reflect on the window pane. The streetlights cast a soft light on the streets. A couple walks past hand in hand, their coats up.
Source: Shutterstock/Real_life_photo
I feel warmth rising through me. Maybe sometimes it takes a bit of cheesiness to break your own cynicism. For the first time in a long time, winter doesn’t seem like an opponent, but simply like what it is: a break. A time to pause, before everything starts again.
Maybe that’s enough.
Source: Stefanie Lechthaler
Header image: Stefanie Lechthaler
Painting the walls just before handing over the flat? Making your own kimchi? Soldering a broken raclette oven? There's nothing you can't do yourself. Well, perhaps sometimes, but I'll definitely give it a try.
Opinion
This is a subjective opinion of the editorial team. It doesn't necessarily reflect the position of the company.
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