Sasha, from Russia to Switzerland
My project “ Resilient Women: Portraits of Immigration” opens with the story of one of my closest people. My childhood friend Sasha.
As far back as I can remember, Sasha has always been on the move, traveling the world. I remember how she would bring back photos from Egypt or from skiing resorts. These images were like postcards, each one representing a different city or country that I may never have the chance to visit. But for Sasha, this constant travel was just a natural part of life. It goes without saying that after experiencing living in other countries, she immigrated.
To me, Sasha is a genuine explorer, brimming with curiosity and the capacity to savor life. I aspire to cultivate such freedom and openness to life's myriad pleasures. Yet, I am certain that beneath the veneer of ease and boundless possibilities that Sasha manifests, lie numerous challenging decisions, moments of overcoming, and paths of self-discovery.
Now, as she embarks on her second solo trip to Asia, lasting a month, we are documenting her journey. Sasha is entering a new chapter in her life, and I am eager to hear what insights she has gained after seven years of living abroad.
“In general, I used to think that a person should not be happy, since I was born in Russia, where happiness is rather a bourgeois luxury”.
Sasha, tell us about yourself and how your emigration happened?
Hello everyone, my name is Sasha. I am currently living in Zurich, Switzerland but originally hail from Moscow, Russia where I was born and raised. My journey of emigration began towards the end of 2016 when I was preparing to marry my beloved. After 5 years of traveling back and forth to see each other, we realized that we needed to either take our relationship to the next level or part ways. We made the decision to start a family and quickly began the process of preparing for emigration and our wedding.
The transition happened rapidly, immersing me completely into the world of emigration. I moved to Zurich on a fiancée visa, searched for and settled into a new home, and in March, we had our wedding. While my life was taking the direction I had hoped for, I found that it was not without its challenges.
Despite having various career opportunities and prospects in Moscow, I was fortunate to continue working as a senior account manager for a large company remotely from Switzerland. However, after nearly two years of balancing work across different time zones, I realized the difficulty of fully integrating into a new country while constantly working from home. The blurred lines between work and personal time made it clear that I needed to seek out local job opportunities.
In Russia, there is a mentality that you owe everything to your parents, job, and unborn children. It was a difficult decision to leave my current job and colleagues, who had allowed me to work remotely and provided opportunities for advancement. After a year in Zurich, I started to quietly send out my resume. I received responses and even had an interesting job offer with an attractive salary in another city, but I wasn't ready to move again.
Then there was an active interview period again, but this did not lead to any results. They always chose someone else. It was very difficult to swallow. I am basically a person with a fairly big ego, and therefore I take such situations very personally and feel everything deeply inside. At some point, after 3-4 refusals, I got scared, there was a tense stage of self-doubt in myself and in the future, I hid deeper into myself.
There is high competition here, there are many people with diplomas and great experience, but it is difficult to find a job. Russia is not Somalia, but we are losing heavily to other candidates from European countries. This is not a reason to be discouraged, but you need to soberly realize that in 2 weeks you won’t be able to find a job (as in Moscow). Different mentality. And attitude to work. People hold on to jobs, working for 10 years. The pace of hiring a person is different.
One day our local friends offered me a job. For the same money that the Russian company (that is, small ones) paid. But I agreed, since my language still required improvement. To find some cool work locally, I had to learn German, so I agreed. Every day I went to courses to learn German, then worked until the evening, since it was a start-up in the field of rental housing in Switzerland, which required maximum involvement. Our friends themselves did not understand how to organize all business processes; I was actually the first employee in the company, but a Swiss company.
I had work experience, was very motivated, and didn’t require anything special. The ideal employee. After the refusals, I was scared to go look for a job again and go through all these feelings again. Now, of course, I understand that 4 refusals is generally nonsense, here in Switzerland you can look for a job for a year. This is the norm.
As a result, I became the operating director of the company. After all this time, the salary increased 5 times. But I left, burned out. And now I am very happy that I took this step.
Were you happy in Moscow?
In general, I used to think that a person should not be happy, since I was born in Russia, where happiness is rather a bourgeois luxury.
There were things that I liked and things that I didn’t like. I thought that to be happy I had to move in with my man and then see what happened next. I had friends, a lot of cool acquaintances, people around me with whom I could have fun. But still everything somehow went in the direction of moving.
I didn't like Moscow. Big, gray city, little nature, eternal traffic jams and gloomy faces... many reasons.
I liked that there were a lot of opportunities and activities, but the city was too big. Stuck in traffic jams all day...too long distances.
I always knew that I would either travel constantly or go somewhere. I was never afraid to go somewhere, from the age of 13 I constantly went somewhere and lived somewhere, for me it was normal..
I didn't plan to get married at 28 and move to a German-speaking country. It would be easier in the USA, since I have excellent English, but I had to learn German almost from scratch.
What is the most important thing when moving to another country?
1 - The key is to learn the language. Local. It’s so damn difficult without him.
2 - You need to develop a thick skin, not take rejections and any failures to heart. To cultivate resilience, it's crucial not to internalize rejections or setbacks. Refuse to diminish your self-worth, persist in your endeavors, and embrace the journey of language acquisition. There are no other options. Therefore, for the stars to align, something needs to be done.
What or who supports you?
My husband always supports me. He's probably my best friend. Mom and family will always support you. I generally grew up with the feeling that everything would be fine. I know that in any case I will come up with something, do something. As a last resort, I’ll go work as a cashier in a bar. I won’t stay on the street, I believe in it. Probably, I myself always support myself in difficult moments, because I choose to move forward.
If we talk about my family, everyone was happy about my move, Switzerland after all. In addition, I regularly went home, so in essence I lived in 2 countries. Maybe that’s why integration in the new country was not super fast, because it was as if I continued to live in Moscow. All the people who were friends remained so. I know that all these connections will continue. It is not necessary to see each other a hundred times for this. Although my social circle has become much smaller due to the move, this is normal, this is life.
Regarding Psychological Well-being
Initially, I underestimated the gravity of moving to a new country. Traveling is one thing—dynamic and uplifting. But when you emigrate, you carry all facets of yourself, including the lows and bad moods, with you.
Adapting requires constant mental exertion, especially in navigating a new language later in life. Despite considering myself a seasoned traveler, I was unprepared for the emotional toll of relocation—moments where motivation waned and despair crept in.
During conflicts with my husband, the absence of familiar refuge hit hard. Unlike in our hometown, there was no easy escape here; we were each other's sole support system.
This aspect warrants consideration before relocating. In challenging times, there's no fleeing to a friend's place or a familiar environment. Conflicts demand swift resolution, forcing introspection and compromise.
At a certain juncture, my resilience wavered. I had pushed myself relentlessly, not realizing the necessity of self-care amidst the rigors of immigration. Moreover, I shouldered additional responsibilities—caring for my mother, grandmother, and ensuring the family's welfare, alongside contemplating starting a family of my own.
Recognizing the need for self-compassion, I learned to grant myself moments of rest without guilt. After enduring a relentless cycle of work, study, and adapting to unforeseen challenges like Covid, I underwent a transformative shift. With guidance from a psychologist, I established boundaries and prioritized activities based on personal fulfillment.
This adjustment doesn't reflect a character flaw but rather a quest for autonomy and self-preservation. Setting boundaries became synonymous with reclaiming my freedom and fostering inner peace.
What scares you?
I'm scared of divorce, like what happened to my parents. I worry we won't agree on things or that life will become boring.
I don't want to lose control over my life. I'm afraid of not being able to choose my own path.
I'm also scared I might not be able to have children. But I want to make my own decisions, not just do what others expect of me.
Most of all, I get really anxious when things happen that I can't control.
When did things start to feel easier?
Now that I quit. Tired of being responsible for the emotional background of other people. Never again.
I’m afraid of not finding another job, that it won’t work out, well, the usual fears, like everyone else. On the other hand, I am happy because I know that everything will work out for me. Storms don't come to destroy you, they come to clear the path.
Reflecting on the journey, I realize it wasn't a decision made lightly. A year ago, I felt like an empty vessel. Recognizing the need for change, I began to set boundaries and prioritize self-care. It wasn't easy; there were arguments and tears. But through it all, I emerged happier, more content, and stronger.
I came to understand that a change in employment was necessary to progress and stay true to myself. Despite the challenges of relocation and the achievements of others, I hold onto my self-worth. If I value myself, others will too.
What do you dream about?
I envision a life of comfort, where I've established a fulfilling career path that I've meticulously charted. This might entail building my own business or finding a fulfilling role within a company.
I yearn for connections with individuals who ignite my curiosity and inspire me to reach higher. I aspire to surround myself with those who excel, elevating me rather than dragging me down.
There's a poignant phrase that resonates with me: "Consider your social circle; if it fails to inspire, it's not a circle but a cage."
Do you ever feel lonely?
Yes, sometimes. It's not as pronounced now, but I've recently begun to sense it more keenly. Despite having moved seven years ago, I still feel the weight of being in a foreign country. There are moments when it seems like nobody truly knows me, and I question my own identity and purpose.
I yearn for the camaraderie of Russian people, not necessarily by being in Russia, but in terms of shared humor and outlook on life. I miss the vibrant conversations and the sense of belonging to a community. Easy rapport with fellow Russians, engaging in discussions and feeling like a part of something bigger.
There's a fear of losing touch with my roots, of becoming disconnected from Russian culture, trends, and contemporary issues. I'm apprehensive about losing my fluency in Russian and feeling alienated from my own heritage.
What troubles me more is witnessing the negativity among Russians living abroad. It's disheartening to see how some treat their own compatriots with disdain.
About the feeling of home.
For a long time it bothered me that there was no feeling of home, neither in Moscow nor in Zurich. I've always yearned to break free from the confines of Moscow.
It dawned on me eventually that it's not about a physical place but rather a state of mind. Home isn't a specific location; it's where your heart lies, where your pursuits and connections reside with family and loved ones.
What would you do differently?
I would start learning the local language in advance. If I had arrived with fluent German, my career life would have turned out completely differently. And career prospects and financial independence are so damn important, especially for female immigrants, especially those married to foreigners.
The notion of depending on someone else's financial support is simply unacceptable to me. Throughout my adult life, I've been self-reliant, so facing criticism over expenses is a nightmare. Maintaining financial autonomy is key.
Here are some key recommendations:
Invest time in learning language.
Avoid isolating yourself; actively seek out connections and acquaintances. In a new environment, the more people you know, the smoother your transition will be. Whether it's striking up conversations with the milkman, the postman, or forming friendships, social engagement is essential. While retreating and giving yourself time may feel comfortable, eventually, you'll need to step out. It's best to start integrating early, especially during the initial adjustment period.
You can follow Sasha’s adventures on Instagram or extend her a tempting job offer on LinkedIn .
