Why I Started This Blog: Moving to Finland, Losing My Job, and Rebuilding on Purpose

My name is Johnny. I’m an Air Force veteran, a husband, a father of three, and—if I’m being honest—someone whose life got flipped upside down in a very short amount of time.

If you’ve ever had the ground disappear under your feet, you’ll probably understand why I’m here writing this.

The simple truth is this: I don’t have a job right now. And instead of pretending that’s not terrifying, I decided to do something different. I decided to write—openly—about the mistakes I’ve made, the lessons I’m learning, and what it looks like to rebuild a meaningful life when the old blueprint no longer works.

If that helps someone else avoid the same pitfalls, great.

If it eventually earns a little money, even better.

But first, this is about honesty.

From Stability to Uncertainty—Fast

A year ago, my life looked very different.

I had steady work. Predictable routines. Familiar systems. Then my wife received military orders, and our family moved overseas to Finland in January 2025.

We went from Virginia to Helsinki in the dead of winter.

And if you’ve never made that jump, let me be clear: it’s not a gentle transition.

Yes, it was cold—but the real shock was the darkness. I’d lived in Alaska years ago while serving in the Air Force, so I thought I knew what I was getting into. I assumed I’d adjust quickly.

I didn’t.

The lack of sunlight, the stress of an international move, the loss of routine, and the quiet pressure of trying to hold everything together hit me harder than I expected. Sometimes life doesn’t punch you immediately. Sometimes it waits until you’re already off balance.

That’s when things get interesting.

Parenting Through a Major International Move

And then there were the kids.

Oh man—the kids.

Moving overseas with three young children is a logistical challenge on its own. Doing it mid-school year, in a new country, with a new language and completely different cultural expectations? That’s a whole other level.

Getting them settled into new schools and routines was rough. They missed their friends. Their teachers. Their sense of normal. We eventually found an English-speaking daycare for our boys, and it was a lifesaver—forest adventures, museum trips, thoughtful meals, and an approach to childhood that felt refreshingly human.

It also cost about as much as a second mortgage.

Worth it for our sanity, but still sobering.

Watching My Daughter Struggle Changed Everything

My daughter had the hardest transition.

Starting school mid-year meant missing orientation, missing the parent networks, missing all the invisible things that help a kid feel anchored. I’ll never forget the day she came home and hugged a picture of her old classmates, crying because she missed them so much.

Back in Virginia, her teacher had been warm and hands-on. Here, the teaching style was more independent, more reserved. Not bad—just different. And that difference took months to adjust to.

The biggest lesson I learned?

If you can help it, move at the start of the school year.

It makes a world of difference.

Finland’s Outdoor Culture (and Getting Schooled by Teachers)

Even something as simple as dressing the kids became a cultural education.

In Finland, outdoor time is sacred. Rain, snow, sleet—it doesn’t matter. Kids go outside. Every day. And if you don’t dress your child properly, the teachers won’t yell at you. They’ll quietly fix it and send your kid home wearing twice as many layers as you packed.

Our first winter was a crash course in:

• Base layers

• Fleece layers

• Rubber suits

• Snow suits

• And the art of not under-dressing your child

Coming from the U.S., we were way behind the curve.

Why I Needed an Outlet

All of these small challenges—stacked together—started to weigh heavier than I expected.

I wasn’t just navigating a new country. I was navigating a loss of identity. I went from being a working professional to a stay-at-home dad overnight. From predictable income to uncertainty. From confidence to questions.

I needed an outlet.

A place to think out loud.

A place to reflect.

A place to document what it actually looks like to uproot a family and rebuild intentionally.

That’s why this blog exists.

What This Blog Is Really About

This isn’t just a travel blog.

It’s about health, because staying mentally and physically grounded has become non-negotiable—especially after learning how closely materialism, stress, and depression are linked.

It’s about family adventures, because exploring Finland together has been one of the most healing parts of this move. Less stuff. More experiences. More contentment.

It’s about breaking generational patterns, because I’ve seen firsthand what happens when comfort, consumption, and poor planning quietly erode a future.

And it’s about aviation, because flying—whether in a small prop plane over Finnish forests or studying for my next rating—reminds me that even when life feels dark on the ground, there’s always light above the clouds.

That’s where the Leggacy idea comes in. Not legacy as in ego—but legacy as in what we pass on, intentionally.

Why I’m Writing Publicly

Finland has been ranked the happiest country in the world for several years now, not because people walk around smiling all the time—but because they’re content. They trust their systems. They feel supported. They don’t rely on consumption to feel safe.

Living here forced me to confront some uncomfortable truths about my own habits, my upbringing, and the culture I came from.

Writing helps me process that.

And if sharing our missteps, lessons, and discoveries helps even one family considering a big move—or one parent juggling massive change—then it’s worth it.

If I can build something meaningful along the way?

Even better.

Welcome to the journey.