I was never into horses as a young girl. I saw no charm in riding schools, and I just did not get it when the other girls were fighting like crazy over their favourite pony. But when I moved to Ölsdalen as an adult, my uncle would pass by my house every morning on horseback, with no saddle. After a few weeks, my curiosity finally got the better of me, and I asked if I could join him. At first, I was terrified. Clearly, the horse did not approve of me on his back. If I felt tense, he would feel the same; if I was distracted, he would just stop and refuse to move. Friendship seemed unlikely to happen, but something inside me wanted to keep trying. And then one day we found that special flow. My first gallop was one of the happiest moments ever; it was like our hearts were beating as one. I had never felt so alive.



Before I moved here, my whole life was in Stockholm, and – like horse riding – living in an old schoolhouse in Ölsdalen, literally in the middle of nowhere, was not part of my plan. I was working as a fashion photographer and, as part of the job, I was travelling a lot. After a particularly intense period of work, I returned to my apartment from a trip to New York, and something had suddenly changed.
When I was in my mid-twenties, Inside me there was this void. I had no energy to keep going; I simply saw no point. What used to fill me with great joy and give professional fulfillment and a desire to constantly develop creatively had been drowned in a massive overload of work, and pressure, and expectations, and self-criticism, and I had completely ignored all the signs of my own emotional crisis in the process.





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