I Don’t Envy the Rich. I Envy Dian Fossey.

There are many people in this world I admire.

But there is one woman I would have loved to meet, to work alongside, to sit beside in the forest and walk through the mist with.

I would have loved to experience what she experienced—to have that extraordinary bond with the gorillas, to spend time with them, to learn their personalities and stories, and to know them as individuals, as she did.

Dian Fossey.

She is my heroine.

And strangely enough, when I think about the people I might envy, it isn’t the rich. It isn’t the famous. It isn’t the people with enormous houses, expensive cars or lives that look perfect from the outside.

I envy Dian Fossey.

Not because her life was easy. It was anything but.

I envy her because she found something she believed was worth giving her whole life to.

Gorillas in the Mist

I first became fascinated by Dian Fossey through Gorillas in the Mist, the 1988 film starring Sigourney Weaver. The film tells the story of Fossey’s extraordinary life among the mountain gorillas of Rwanda and her determination to protect them from poaching and exploitation. [universalpicturesathome\.com](https://www.universalpicturesathome.com/movies/gorillas-in-the-mist?utm_source=chatgpt.com)

I loved the film.

But what stayed with me wasn’t simply the story of the gorillas.

It was her.

A woman who chose the mountains, the forest, the rain, the mud and the solitude over a conventional life.

A woman who didn’t seem to need the things that so many of us are taught to want.

She wanted to understand.

She wanted to protect.

She wanted to belong to something bigger than herself.

And somehow, I understood her.

A life with purpose

In 1967, Dian Fossey established the Karisoke Research Center in the Virunga mountains of Rwanda, beginning with little more than two tents between Mount Karisimbi and Mount Bisoke. There, she spent years studying mountain gorillas and gradually gained their trust. [gorillafund\.org](https://gorillafund.org/dian-fossey/karisoke-founded-on-this-day-49-years-ago/?utm_source=chatgpt.com)

She learned to recognize them as individuals.

Not simply as “gorillas”.

They had personalities, relationships, families and their own ways of communicating.

And the more she learned about them, the more fiercely she wanted to protect them.

When poaching threatened the animals she had come to know, Fossey stopped being simply a researcher observing from the sidelines. She became an activist and protector, helping establish anti-poaching efforts and eventually creating the Digit Fund after the killing of Digit, the gorilla she had become especially attached to. [The Gorilla Organization](https://gorillas.org/about/dian-fossey/?utm_source=chatgpt.com)

That is what moves me most about her.

She didn’t just love wildlife. She did something about it.

A personal encounter in the wild

I lived for two years in East Africa, in Tanzania, from 2001 to 2003, doing volunteer work. During that time, I had the chance to travel to Uganda and visit Mgahinga National Park.

There, I saw mountain gorillas in the wild.

And I will never forget it.

They were everything I had imagined from Fossey’s writings and from the film—but also something more.

They were majestic, peaceful and profoundly beautiful.

There is a stillness to them that is difficult to describe. A presence. A quiet intelligence. A sense that you are not simply looking at an animal, but encountering another way of being in the world.

In that moment, I understood even more deeply why Dian Fossey had devoted her life to them.

Because once you have seen them like that—once you have been close enough to feel their calm strength—you cannot unsee their value.

You cannot reduce them to something distant or abstract.

They become real in a way that stays with you forever.

“I don’t envy rich people”

I sometimes think about what it really means to have a successful life.

We are constantly surrounded by messages telling us what success should look like.

More money.

More possessions.

A bigger house.

More holidays.

More followers.

More status.

But when I think of Dian Fossey, I realize that isn’t necessarily the kind of success I admire.

I don’t envy rich people.

I envy the person who wakes up knowing why they are there.

I envy someone who can look at their life and feel that it has meaning.

I envy someone who is willing to be uncomfortable for something they believe in.

I envy someone who can look at a wild animal and see not a commodity, not a photograph, not something to own—but a life worth protecting.

That is the kind of wealth I admire.

Why I feel connected to her

I don’t pretend that my life is anything like Dian Fossey’s.

I haven’t lived for years in a tent in the mountains of Rwanda. I haven’t studied gorillas in the mist. And I haven’t had to face the dangers that she faced.

But I recognize something in her.

That deep feeling that animals matter.

That nature matters.

That we have a responsibility towards the creatures with whom we share this planet.

And perhaps most importantly, that our lives don’t have to be defined only by what we can gain.

They can also be defined by what we can give.

That is one of the reasons Fitz & Willow exists.

It began from a simple idea: what if the things we buy and wear could reflect what we care about?

What if a T-shirt could be more than a T-shirt?

What if a purchase could carry a little message about wildlife, nature and the world we want to leave behind?

It won’t change the world on its own.

But perhaps thousands of small choices can.

The legacy she left behind

Dian Fossey was murdered in 1985, but her work did not disappear with her. The research and conservation work that began at Karisoke continues, and her legacy has become part of the ongoing effort to protect mountain gorillas. [The Gorilla Organization](https://gorillas.org/celebrating-the-legacy-of-dian-fossey/?utm_source=chatgpt.com)

That, to me, is another definition of a meaningful life.

You don’t necessarily have to live forever.

You have to leave something behind that continues to matter.

A protected forest.

A species that survives.

A person inspired to care.

A child who grows up loving animals.

A small business that tries to make better choices.

A reminder that wild creatures are not ours to possess.

My heroine

If I could choose one extraordinary life to witness, hers would be high on my list.

Because she didn’t spend her life trying to have more.

She spent it trying to protect what she loved.

And perhaps that is why, when I think about the people I admire, I don’t think first about wealth.

I think about a woman standing in the mist of the Virunga mountains, surrounded by the animals she had chosen to defend.

A woman who found her purpose.

A woman who gave almost everything to it.

Dian Fossey, you are my heroine.

And if I could borrow one thing from your life, it would be your courage to live in the mountains and your ability to look at something vulnerable and say:

This matters.

And then do something about it.