To fully understand my story, we have to go back to my childhood in the small town of Hanko in Finland. As long as I can remember, I was criticized about my body. This started my self-depreciation and doubt that I would ever be good enough to be loved by a man, much less to be enough for anything else. I was simply the wrong shape and size to be considered for such a life. I truly believed that I wasn’t worthy of love.

When I was 16, I met my first boyfriend. He was nothing like the man I had dreamed about. He was quiet and stoic, had no interests in life, and drank way too much. But he was the only one who didn’t push me away.

This relationship turned into a 9-year nightmare. Not only did my boyfriend drink too much, he got very violent when he was drunk. My reality became one I had never imagined and I would never wish on anyone. I was physically abused weekly, some weeks daily. 

I was very young, and I thought this was love. I thought the problem had to be with me. He never hit anyone else. In fact, he was often the one to diffuse situations in bars. 

As a result of all the stress and violence in my life, I developed stomach cancer at the age of 21. At the time, I could not understand how a healthy 21-year-old could possibly get stomach cancer. I had done everything right. I exercised, ate healthy, and barely drank because my boyfriend needed a designated driver for his lush life. 

One cold winter night, my boyfriend came home from a night of heavy drinking, and I woke up to him sitting on my legs, punching my stomach with both of his fists. This was a habit of his. Punching someone in the stomach doesn’t leave marks. On previous occasions, it was always easy for him to be apologetic and say that what he did wasn’t so bad: “Look at yourself! There’s not a single mark on your body. I was so drunk I could barely walk. How could I possibly hurt you badly? You’re throwing this way out of proportion. Besides, you know I don’t mean it.” I had learned to believe this was the truth.

I also learned to “take it like a champ” aka blame it on myself, and just wait for it to be over. But that particular night, things felt different. There was a darkness in his eyes I had not seen before. It felt evil. The last thing I remember is him strangling me and sticking his teeth to my left eyebrow as hard as he could. 

I have no idea how we got to the ER, but when I regained consciousness, I was standing by the back wall of the room, observing doctors and nurses feverishly working on someone. I noticed a heart monitor flatlining. When I realized that someone was my lifeless body, I felt a rush of panic. But as fast as that panic set in, it was lifted off me. I was emotionally pulled back from the scene. I felt indescribable peace and love. I knew everything was okay. I was okay. 

As I continued to watch the scene, I could hear everyone in the room and in the other rooms. I could see everything going on in the hospital and even outside. I had a perfect 360-degree view of my surroundings. I felt more alive than I ever had. Everything was very much alive. I could feel how alive the trees were outside, even in the middle of Finnish winter when they were supposed to be frozen.

As I observed things happening in the hospital, my grandparents approached me from behind. I have never felt such joy and love. I was so excited to see them, to hug them again! It is impossible to describe the elation I felt. They reassured me that I was okay and that I could choose to either come with them or go back to my body. The body looked so small; I didn’t see how I could ever fit in it. My current stage seemed so large and expansive, there was no way I could possibly fit back into that tiny body. 

As I continued to observe and chat with my grandparents, I could feel many others around me, welcoming me and telling me how life is truly what we make it. I was showered with love and wisdom beyond what is possible in our human form. I finally understood that cancer in my stomach was caused by all the fear, anxiety, and stress I had tried to bury deep down while protecting my boyfriend from the possible embarrassment of being labeled a woman beater. I also understood that if I decided to come back, the illness would be gone. 

I could see how we are all actors in this beautiful play called Life. How every little thing fits perfectly in the intricately woven tapestry of the universe. There is no right or wrong, good or bad. There are only individual choices we make based on our understanding and the level of love we allow. We also make many choices before we come here. And we come with a knowledge that a lot of choices are not permanent. We can always choose differently.

You know how many people wonder what the purpose of life is? I finally understood it. The purpose of life is joy. We are here to experience as much joy as we can, to expand the universe with our unique choices and views, and to play on this playground called Earth. 

I was approaching 20 minutes of being clinically dead, and my grandparents told me I needed to make my decision. I knew I wanted to come back. I hadn’t lived yet. I had so much to accomplish. So much to see, do, and most importantly, FEEL. I felt sad to leave my grandparents and other wonderful people who joined me, but I knew they would always be with me, and I could call for their help any time I needed. 

When I opened my eyes back in my body, I knew my cancer was gone. I knew my life would be completely different. I had a purpose now. I wanted to get off the hospital bed and run home that second. 

Of course, the doctors told me that I needed to stay in the hospital, all the correct protocol was to be followed, and even if my heart stopping for 20 minutes didn’t kill me, the cancer was still a huge concern. They said it might be months before I go home. I knew better, though. Needless to say, the doctors were completely flabbergasted when they couldn’t find any cancerous cells in my tests after 24 hrs. I got to go home about a week later. 

The first year after my near-death experience wasn’t very easy. I had moments of pure joy and elation, just like I felt on the “other side,” but they went by quickly because I still felt like my body was too small to hold on to such huge emotions. In fact, everything I felt was a giant ball of emotion. I hadn’t relearned yet to control my energetic being here on earth, and I felt every feeling around me, too. My neighbor bawling her eyes out because her boyfriend left her? Yep, felt it. The local grocer being mad at his busboy for dropping gallons of milk on the floor? Oh yeah, the anger surged through me like nobody’s business. The grass stretching in joy towards the sun? Felt it to my core. There were several days when I felt crazy, wanted to leave again, and wondered why I made such a stupid choice to come back. 

As I slowly gained control of my energy field again and protected myself from those around me, I realized what a fun and wonderful playground this place is. I have full control of how I show up, what I feel, and what I want my future to look like!

I moved to the United States and went on to have a fantastic career as a makeup artist in the film industry: I am Oscar- and Emmy-nominated. I have two wonderful sons who are absolutely magical creatures. They are very different but equally amazing. They bring so much joy not only to me but also to everyone who comes in contact with them. Now, 30 years later, I still revel in this wonderful opportunity to be on this planet right now. I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I do know that how I show up affects the entire world around me.

I have chosen to be a channel through which good flows for everyone. That is my purpose. And even though I was strongly discouraged from talking about my experience by the people closest to me when I first told them about it, I have now chosen to bring this to the attention of everyone. Life is too precious to waste on worrying; I want everyone to know that they are loved, protected, and supported at all times. It is never too late to share your story and make a difference. 

I have been the lighthouse, the safe haven for many for the past three decades without actually sharing my story. I can help people by simply being, but I finally understand that by sharing my story, I can help a lot more people. My words are not perfect yet, and I am learning how to share details without sounding crazy, but it's all coming together perfectly in perfect time. Thank you!