I was born in the barren landscape of Småland, located in the southern part of Sweden. The harsh conditions of the region are what made a couple of hundred thousand people leave in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, hoping to build a better future for themselves in the promising land of America.
I grew up on the countryside, a few miles away from the birthplace of IKEA. My mother’s dad was a carpenter and my father’s dad a farmer, men of their time with little insights into the emotional or spiritual realms of their lives. What mattered was only how hard you were able to work. Both my grandmothers were soft, gentle souls, yet super women made of steel. They were thrown into a world where all they could do was to adjust, and love just as hard as their husbands worked.
In his youth, about the same time as his peer Ingvar Kamprad began building IKEA, my mother’s father travelled to the U.S. to visit his cousin. He ended up spending some time over there, practicing his craft while building American skyscrapers and fell in love with an American woman. Little could he do when he was called in to fight the Koreans, but to get on the next boat back to Sweden. Lucky for me, because the first weekend after his return, he met my grandmother at a dance and the rest is history.
I took my first job as a swimming teacher when I was 14. During high school, I also tried out customer support and the local post office. After graduation, I got my first real employment assembling wheel chairs, serving merely as financial stability while I was trying to figure out what to do with my life.
The never ending burning world around us bothered me deeply, and the small-minded political views surrounding me at the factory eventually forced me out of there, even though I had no idea what to do next. I booked a ticket for New York to study English. I left with an urge to just switch environment, but when I came back a month later I felt more vibrantly alive than I’d ever been. I ended up booking a three-week bartender course to Gran Canaria, Spain. Three weeks turned into six months and there I met one of my best friends, whose son I’m now the godmother to. The modest 30 euros I earned per night behind the bar has never bothered me as I think of everything else I won during those months.
In Spain, I realized I need to do something to make this world we live in a better place. I returned to Sweden, worked up some money as a credit manager during summer, and began studying political science. How could I change the world if I didn’t understand the forces forming it right now? During my studies, I engaged in refugee consultations at the Red Cross, and after my bachelor’s degree I began working with environmental issues at the local municipality. But I wanted to do more. Have bigger impact. I went back to the university and took my master’s in global studies. Then I worked with local authorities to shorten the road for refugees to the Swedish labour market; I worked at a home for refugee children coming to the country without their families; I worked as manager for a project aiming to create understanding and build relationships between Swedish-born and refugee teenagers. But still, I want to do more. Have bigger impact.
My passion for writing is a whole other chapter. In my writing I can express myself as a woman, analyze relationships, explore factors for personal development and growth, live out conflicts and contradictions. It’s a creative sphere where I can be free and lift the heavy burden of trying to change the world off my shoulders for a while. In my writing I’m free to play, free to find the way back to my inner child who doesn’t care about nothing else than to explore, enjoy and laugh. Right now, I’m indulging myself completely in the bubble of being a full-time romance writer.
My clearest vision and deepest wish for the future is to combine these two sides of my life and personality. To be able to use my playful soul in building a platform as a writer, which in the long run can assist my more serious mind when it comes to changing this world for the better.
I welcome you all to follow me on this journey!
That’s all for now,
hej så länge!