Winter Beginnings: Starting My Eco Consultancy in Sweden

The sun lifted its head for a brief hello at 11:08 and ducked away before three. I remember watching that thin slice of light slide across my Malmö kitchen table and thinking: if I can build a business in this narrow window of daylight, I can build it anywhere.

Why Sweden, Why Now

I’m a Danish environmental engineer in my late 30s, and last autumn I moved across the Öresund to launch a sustainability consultancy. I’d been flirting with the idea for years, but Sweden’s green economy finally tipped me over the edge: municipalities asking for life cycle assessments in procurement, companies measuring Scope 3 emissions without rolling their eyes, and whole neighborhoods experimenting with district heating, heat pumps, and circular construction. Even small suppliers here talk about climate targets. When your clients are already curious, “eco” work stops being an uphill sell and starts being a partnership.

On my first day “on the job,” I took the train to Lund to meet a midsize construction firm. They wanted help understanding climate declarations for new buildings, and whether HVO100 fuel or switching to electric machinery would move the needle faster. We sketched a timeline over coffee, and I left with a draft scope and frozen toes—the meeting room had perfect indoor air quality but Arctic floors. Lesson one: bring wool socks to winter site visits, no matter how professional your outfit looks.

Visas, Paperwork, and the Personnummer Maze

As a Dane, the immigration part was refreshingly simple. Nordic citizens can live and work in Sweden without a residence permit. The real “visa” here is the personnummer—the Swedish personal identity number—because it unlocks almost everything: healthcare, banking, mobile ID, even gym memberships.

My process:

• I registered my Swedish address with Skatteverket (the Tax Agency) and applied for a personnummer because I’m staying more than a year.
• After a few weeks, the number arrived. I nearly framed the letter.
• With that, I booked a time for a Swedish ID card (issued by Skatteverket; the small fee felt like a bargain for how often I use it).
• Then came a bank account and BankID, which makes official life ridiculously smooth. Swish (mobile payments) followed. I now pay for fika with my thumb.

For non-EU friends who ask: your path will be different—work permit, residence permit, etc.—but once you have a personnummer, the trains run on the same tracks.

Starting the Company: The Practical Bits

I had to choose: enskild firma (sole trader) or aktiebolag (limited company). I started as a sole trader to move quickly and keep costs light. Here’s what I actually did:

• Used verksamt.se, the official portal, which walks you through the steps in plain Swedish (and decent English).
• Registered for F-skatt (so clients can pay me without withholding tax) and for VAT (moms) because I sell consulting services. Many Swedish clients won’t sign without F-skatt.
• Picked accounting software that plays nicely with Swedish rules. I tested Bokio and Fortnox; both handle invoices and VAT reporting, and they connect to my bank.
• Set up e-invoicing (Peppol) because public-sector clients require it, and increasingly private ones appreciate it.

My plan is to switch to an AB once revenue is consistent; it requires share capital (25,000 SEK) but adds credibility and some protections. I got free advice from NyföretagarCentrum and a grant-writing checklist from Almi. When I mentioned “circular procurement” to the advisor, she grinned and produced three relevant case studies like a magician with scarves.

Housing in the Real World

Housing was my first wobble. Malmö’s rental market is gentler than Stockholm’s, but the catch-22 still applies: many landlords want a personnummer, which you often need housing to get. I started with an andrahandskontrakt (second-hand lease) I found through Blocket Bostad/Qasa, then registered my address and kept applying for queue-based first-hand apartments (bostadskö). Those queues can be long, so bring patience and copies of everything.

Practical tips from my notebook:

• Expect to pay a deposit (often one month’s rent).
• If a listing seems suspiciously cheap, it probably is. I requested video calls and ID verification before transferring deposits.
• Heat is often included; electricity sometimes isn’t. I chose a green electricity plan anyway—it felt on brand.

Healthcare and Everyday Setup

Once the personnummer came, I chose a local vårdcentral (primary care clinic) through 1177.se, the national health portal. Appointments carry a small fee and there’s a yearly cap after which visits are free; dental care is separate, so I budgeted for that. I got a seasonal flu shot, mostly because my first winter was also my first solo-founder winter, and being sick alone is not the vibe I wanted.

I switched my Danish phone to a Swedish plan after getting BankID. Every adult here seems to manage life through that little app. It’s both astonishing and calming—bureaucracy dissolves into a few screen taps.

Work, Culture, and That Famous Balance

“Lagom” gets teased as bland, but in work culture it’s a compass. Meetings start on time, end on time, and people mean it when they say they’ll get back to you by Friday. I don’t chase. People actually follow through.

At 15:00 in winter, offices thin out. Kids get picked up, skis or skates come out, and everyone still expects high-quality work. The balance isn’t a luxury; it’s infrastructure. I’ve adjusted my rhythm: heads-down analysis early, client calls late morning, a fast lunch, and a non-negotiable daylight walk. The lack of sun is real. A therapy lamp sits by my laptop, and I take vitamin D like an old ritual. If I skip the midday walk, my brain slows to molasses by four.

Language has been humbling. I read Swedish easily as a Dane, but fast spoken Swedish—especially in technical meetings—is like being pelted with soft snowballs. Everyone speaks beautiful English, which is both a blessing and a trap. I’m taking evening classes at Folkuniversitetet and insisting on Swedish “check-ins” at the start of meetings. When I stumble, clients are kind. When I land a full sentence with the right melody, they beam and refill my coffee.

The Green Economy Up Close

Sweden is serious about climate action. Municipalities ask for climate criteria in tenders. A client in Skåne wanted to compare embodied carbon in timber vs. hybrid concrete structures, not as a marketing exercise, but because their board has a 2030 target tied to financing. I’ve helped a logistics company map its Scope 3 emissions and a public agency draft circular procurement guidelines for office refits. E-invoices and GHG Protocol are table stakes here; clients ask about EPDs, circularity indicators, and fossil-free construction sites like they’re discussing lunch options.

I’ve learned to tailor proposals to what Sweden already does well (district heating, electrification, public transit) and where it’s still wrestling (grid bottlenecks, hard-to-abate industry). There’s a proud culture of “just do it”—and a pragmatic patience I’m still learning.

Winter, Darkness, and Finding “Mys”

By mid-December, I understood why the country glows from inside. Paper star lamps bloomed in windows. Lucia came with saffron buns and candlelit choirs, and I cried in a church unexpectedly, warmed by sound and wax. I mastered the art of “mys” at home: candles, wool socks, soup from root vegetables I’d ignored for years, and Friday nights dedicated to something cozy (fredagsmys) rather than “hustle harder.”

On good days, I skate at the outdoor rink or plunge into the sea at Ribersborg Kallbadhus, scuttling straight to the sauna as my bones forgive me. On bad days, I lace a reflective band to my coat, walk in whatever daylight exists, and bribe myself with a kardemummabulle. This week, semlor appeared and I treat them like tiny edible suns.

Community and How I Found My People

I thought I’d be lonelier than I am. Swedes are private at first, which I respect, but consistent invitations work. My little map of community:

• Coworking days at Mindpark and occasional train trips to Stockholm for events at Norrsken House. The sustainability breakfasts there are a goldmine.
• Volunteering with Naturskyddsföreningen’s local chapter—litter picks and workshops on biodiversity in urban spaces.
• A Wednesday running group that becomes a soup group in January.
• “Korpen” floorball, where everyone is equally bad and equally cheerful.

A tip if you’re new: Bring something to the table. Offer to share a tool, a template, a contact. People notice generosity here, even if they don’t gush about it.

Money Talk: Costs and What I Actually Pay

• Housing: My studio in Malmö isn’t cheap, but it’s manageable compared to Copenhagen or Stockholm. I budgeted for one month’s deposit and a few fees.
• Office: Coworking runs in the low-thousands of SEK per month, depending on the city and plan. I do two days a week in a space and the rest at home.
• Transport: I keep a monthly pass on my phone and a bike with studded tires. Trains mostly run on time—even in snow—but I leave a buffer in January.
• Food: “Dagens lunch” (today’s lunch) at restaurants is good value; eating out at night adds up. Fika is a lifestyle cost I refuse to cut.

A Few First Clients and a First Win

That construction firm in Lund? We built a plan: trial an electric mini-excavator, switch site heat to district heating where possible, and roll out materials tracking so climate declarations stop being panic paperwork and start being routine. The site manager emailed me last week: “We didn’t think it would be this… doable.” I took a victory lap around the kitchen with my coffee, then spent the afternoon wrangling an invoice template. The highs are small, specific, and deeply satisfying.

Advice If You’re Considering the Same Leap

• If you’re Nordic/EU: prioritize the personnummer. Everything else cascades from that. Book your Swedish ID card appointment early.
• Use verksamt.se; it’s not glamorous, but it’s clear. Get F-skatt sorted before you pitch larger clients.
• Expect a few chicken-and-egg loops (housing needing personnummer and vice versa). Temporary sublets can bridge the gap.
• Choose a bank that issues BankID quickly; it’s the key to your new life.
• In winter, schedule daylight like a meeting. Ten minutes at noon beats a sloggy brain at four.
• Learn enough Swedish to greet, thank, and fumble gracefully. People open up when you try.
• Find your fika. A regular café, a bun you love, a corner you claim. Rituals make a place feel like yours.

Looking Ahead

I came for the green economy, and I’m staying for the balance. There’s something about the way Sweden pairs ambition with gentleness that I needed at this stage of life and work. The days are already lengthening by a minute here and there. I notice it on my walks. I notice it in the cadence of clients’ plans, too: more light, more clarity, a steady pace that still gets you there.

If winter is the test, then building a company now feels like planting a seed under snow. You don’t see much for a while, but underground, things are organizing themselves—quietly, sturdily, ready for spring.

With hope for your journey,