“To change our behavior, we must change our feelings, and to change our feelings, we must change our thoughts.”
— Dr. Edith Eva Eger
I recently listened to an interview with Dr. Edith Eva Eger, a Jewish woman who survived the Holocaust. Her story deeply moved me. What stood out the most was her unshakable resilience and the message she now shares with the world: that no matter what we’ve lived through, we are not broken. We can change our lives—starting with how we think.
This message is also at the heart of what Neville Goddard and Byron Katie teach: if we want to experience a new world, we must first look at the world through a new lens. We are not fixed identities—we are shaped by thoughts, habits, and beliefs. And we can change those.
“Each of us bears his own hell.” – Virgil
Of course, none of our personal stories can or should be compared to the unimaginable pain of something like the Holocaust. But I believe we each carry a story—a quiet suffering, a set of experiences that shaped our worldview and challenged our sense of safety, self-worth, and hope. Some call it trauma, others call it life. Regardless of the label, what unites us is how we choose to move forward.
🌿 Where It All Began
I grew up in a spiritual community connected to the Hare Krishna movement. From the outside, it might have looked peaceful, even idyllic. But inside that world were strict rules, spiritual ideals, and often, a lack of personal boundaries—especially for children like me. Life was structured and hierarchical. I moved between temples and boarding schools from a young age, always trying to be the “good girl,” the obedient one who didn’t cause trouble.
When I was ten, I returned home to Sweden after a year at a Krishna boarding school in France. I was happy to be home, but I didn’t really know where I belonged. My mother and her husband had a rocky relationship, and I often found myself trying to keep the peace. I had two younger siblings who looked up to me, and I quickly learned how to be strong—for everyone else.
That’s when it started: the habit of neglecting my own needs and emotions to maintain harmony around me.
💔 A Flame Dimmed by Silence
Not long after, something happened that shaped the way I would relate to love, shame, and fear for decades to come. A young man from the temple began secretly grooming me. It started with small notes hidden in my shoes. There was mystery and attention—and for a lonely child, it felt like affection. At the time, I didn’t have the words to explain what was happening. I just knew it was forbidden, and yet, exciting.
Eventually, the adults found out. But instead of explaining or protecting me, they made me feel like I was the problem. They debated whether to marry me off to the man. I was only 11 years old. In the end, they decided to send me away again—to France, for my own “protection.” But no one sat me down to tell me I had done nothing wrong. No one told me I was just a child.
The shame was deafening.
That shame followed me for years, shaping how I saw myself and how I showed up in relationships. I became a people pleaser, afraid of taking up space, afraid of being “too much.” Guilt became a silent companion, whispering that I wasn’t lovable, that I was the problem.
🌱 The Choice to Heal
That feeling—that something was inherently wrong with me—drove many of the choices I made later in life. I got married young, not out of love, but because I was told it was the right thing to do. To this day, I know many people—especially women—who stay in jobs, relationships, and belief systems out of the same kind of fear.
The fear of being selfish. The fear of starting over. The fear that they don’t deserve more.
But at some point, that flame that had dimmed inside me began to flicker again. I started asking different questions:
What if I’m not broken?
What if I don’t have to earn love?
What if I can choose my own path?
It wasn’t easy. Healing never is. But I found inspiration in voices like Byron Katie, who says:
“Nothing you believe is true. Knowing this is freedom.”
And Dr. Eger again:
“In the end, it’s not about what happens to us that matters most—it’s what we choose to do with it.”
✨ What Is Your Flame?
We all carry pain. But we also carry strength.
That strength lives in the decision to start again. It lives in the moment we decide to stop waiting for approval, and begin choosing ourselves. It’s the part of us that knows there’s more beyond the darkness. It’s the part that whispers, “Keep going.”
We don’t have to live the dream we were told to dream. We can live the one we create.
So I leave you with this: What is your inner flame? Where did you lose it? And how will you choose to keep it alive?