Up and Not Crying: The Quiet Strength of “Oppe og ikke gråter.”

There is a Norwegian phrase that has captured my interest recently.

“Oppe og ikke gråter.”  (Pronounced: OH-peh oh ICK-eh GRAW-ter) It translates to “Up and not crying.”

It is the kind of answer given when someone asks, “How are you?” and you do not have the energy for a monologue, but you also don’t want to pretend or lie. It is honest without being heavy, humorous without being dismissive. A tiny shrug of a sentence that somehow carries a whole philosophy.

A small phrase with big Scandinavian energy

“Oppe og ikke gråter” is a real Norwegian expression, a wry and understated way of saying, “I am alive, I am upright, and I am not crying, so that is good enough.”

It reflects the kind of deadpan humour, stoic, dry and quietly tender. It does not pretend everything is perfect. It does not catastrophise either. It simply acknowledges the truth of being human. Some days, the bar is low and clearing it is still an achievement.

Not every Norwegian uses it

Some have never heard it. Others recognise it as regional, old fashioned, or something their grandmother might say while stirring porridge and refusing to elaborate on her feelings.

I think that is part of its charm. It feels to me like a hand me down phrase, practical and comforting in its simplicity. Capturing a very specific emotional space. The middle ground between “I am fine” and “I am falling apart.” It is the space where many people quietly exist at any given time.

The quiet victories

It is the quiet resilience of getting out of bed when you would rather not. The small victory of making it through a day without tears.The gentle defiance of continuing, even when continuing is the only thing you can manage.

It is not triumphant. It is not dramatic. It is human.

The strength that does not announce itself

Strength often lives in the everyday, the ordinary, the unglamorous.

“Oppe og ikke gråter” fits into that philosophy with ease.

It reminds me that resilience does not always roar. Sometimes it simply stays upright. Sometimes that is enough. Sometimes that is everything.

It also reminds me that I do not know what is happening in other people’s lives. Not in each moment, not in each interaction.

Perhaps I will try it the next time someone asks how I am and I do not have the bandwidth for a full emotional inventory. Or when I am not sure they have the bandwidth to receive it.

I might borrow a little Scandinavian understatement. “Up and not crying.”

Or maybe I’ll attempt to learn the pronunciation: OH-peh oh ICK-eh GRAW-ter, or not.

I appreciate an honesty, humility and to me a sense of quiet courage in the sentiment.