Nothing lasting can be achieved in a hurry, and feelings cannot be changed overnight—nor can habits. However, I needed to start somewhere if I wanted to shed the burdens I had harbored since childhood.

Parents are meant to prepare a child for adult life. Instead, mine saddled me with an overwhelming burden that I carried for many years. I am still trying to escape the shadows of my childhood that seem to control me. Many times I wanted to act and feel differently, but the long reach of my parents’ influence always held me back.

One day, standing in front of an overflowing garbage can, I finally saw myself clearly. I realized I had become a woman who cared more about her outward appearance than her inner well-being, filled with negative thoughts and feelings about life. Everything was someone else’s fault.

I was surrounded by people who believed the world couldn’t function without them—self-important and arrogant. Suddenly, I realized I needed to rid myself of the internal garbage and fill myself with something that sustains instead of destroys. First, I had to confront what I had been shamefully hiding all my life, analyze it, and return it to those who put it there. Only then could I replace this toxic pattern with something worthwhile.

The abuse I endured as a child haunted me. Not knowing any better, I accepted this mental and physical pain as my life’s burden. My father always told me I was unworthy, dumb, no good, and not worth the food I ate.

As I wrote about my childhood, the haunting shadows confronted me. Each horrible scene I visualized felt like I was emptying one layer of my soul’s garbage can. Every scene I wrote turned on another light, and the mental pain left me little by little. I saw how my life today was controlled by those childhood experiences. One memory followed another, and after I had written everything down that I could never talk about, I realized how much power and control these secrets had over me. Gradually, I started feeling freer; the fear subsided in stages until finally, I felt empty.

The time was ripe to fill the gap in my mind with positive thoughts. In this process, I discovered a gentle, kind woman who was able to love. Carefully, still fearing rejection, I began to express my opinions and true feelings. I no longer had to please others. My self-confidence grew steadily.

After six years of mainly self-therapy (regressing), I made an important step. The mental healing began slowly as I unloaded a burden I could no longer carry. I faced what I feared most: my hometown of Harburg, Germany, where all the horrible memories were created.