Before prison, I was one of those people who thought Belarusians were wasting their time walking around with flowers — that they should have picked up batons instead. But after serving four years, I think differently: if Belarusians had won back then, the world would have changed forever. Because goodness would have triumphed in an entirely peaceful way.

But to understand that, I had to end up in a Belarusian penal colony — because before prison, I was a different person. Back then, my life was filled with work; I was in trade, constantly traveling between Minsk and Riga. Yes, I saw what was happening in the country, and that’s why I spoke openly in a private chat — where, apparently, I said enough to earn myself several criminal charges. I was sentenced and sent to a colony.

Compared to other political prisoners, I wasn’t treated as harshly — my Latvian passport helped in that regard. Though I did go through solitary confinement, disciplinary cells, Okrestina detention center, and even a psychiatric hospital. Overall, however, foreigners were treated more leniently. If I had health problems, I was given medical assistance. I had no illusions — they weren’t worried about me, they were worried about themselves. If something bad had happened to me, they would have been in trouble.

And I tried to help others who suffered from the actions of the security forces. I stood up for people, lived with a sense of inner freedom, and couldn’t walk past injustice.

I can’t say I wasn’t afraid. In fact, I’d always been a bit of a coward, even though outwardly I seemed confident. And I’m not ashamed to admit that, because prison changed me. I remember one moment: I had just been released from Volodarka (a pre-trial detention center), when they arrested me again — twisted my arms and threw me into a car. At that moment, I realized anything could happen to me.

The Soviet-style Belarusian system revealed its impunity and permissiveness — within it, a person is nothing, and its servants can kill you without consequence. Those extreme, life-threatening moments showed me that I could handle them. My fear completely disappeared — fear of society, fear of looking foolish or ridiculous. The fear of expressing love disappeared too, because many people are afraid of their feelings, afraid to show them.

Now, I tell people kind words with joy. I’m no longer afraid to be myself.

THE TRIAL OF IMPRISONMENT BECAME MY GIFT FROM GOD. ONLY IN THIS WAY DID I BECOME A DIFFERENT PERSON AND SEE LIFE IN A NEW LIGHT.

There was a time when I controlled everything. Now, I trust the universe.

For example, before, when my son was flying somewhere, I used to ask him to text me once he landed and was safe. I worried, constantly thinking about his flight. But now I understand: I don’t determine my son’s fate. I’m not the pilot — so why should I sit on FlightRadar and track his plane? Because I love him? Those things aren’t connected. And if I don’t ask whether he landed safely — does that mean I don’t love him? That’s nonsense too.

My way of thinking changed thanks to books. I’ve always read a lot, but in the years before prison, I didn’t have time for reading. In prison, I returned to books and discovered a wealth of spiritual literature. I used to think I knew everything about life, but as I opened certain books, I realized I knew nothing.

I was lucky — the colony had a lot of good literature: books on psychology, religion, and personal growth. Napoleon Hill, Louise Hay, Stephen Covey, Eckhart Tolle, and many other great authors. These are the kinds of books we should be reading in school, because they truly prepare us for life — unlike integrals and derivatives.

Strange as it may sound, prison is the best place for purification. Because there, you are faced with a choice.

AND NO GUARD CAN TAKE AWAY MY CHOICE, BECAUSE IT WAS GIVEN TO ME BY GOD. I ALWAYS HAVE A CHOICE: HOW TO REACT TO A SITUATION, WHAT TO FEEL IN THAT MOMENT, AND HOW TO ACT. THEY CAN TAKE AWAY FREEDOM, BUT THEY CANNOT TAKE AWAY MY FREEDOM OF WILL AND THOUGHT.

A vivid example of this is Statkevich’s behavior. They have no power over him — he doesn’t belong to them.

I’ve changed in the same way. I’ve let go of many situations and people with whom things didn’t work out — I let them go with love. The thing is, what you think about creates your world. Many people don’t believe that, but in prison, it’s the perfect place to see how it works.

For example, take the practice of forgiveness: when you’ve had a conflict with someone, but instead of feeding that conflict, you forgive the person in your mind and ask forgiveness yourself. After that, either your relationship with that person improves, or they simply leave your life.

Another example: when inspectors come to check your cell, and you’ve already wound yourself up, expecting them to turn everything upside down and find fault with something — that’s exactly what happens, because those are the thoughts you’re sending out. You have to understand that this process is just part of their job, and there’s no need to feel hostility from the start.

Yes, many terrible things happen there, and it’s very hard to forgive them. It’s hard to forgive torture and beatings. How did I manage to do it? Every day, I prayed — prayers of love and gratitude to God for giving me this life lesson, for allowing me to see my mistakes and adjust my path.

You can’t wish harm even to people like Lukashenko, the judges, or the guards. They have their own path — and I have mine. They will answer for their deeds themselves. And every day, I choose how to act and how to respond to each situation.

In response to any aggression, I wished people only good. And it worked.

AS LUULE VIILMA SAID: “WE MUST FIGHT FOR THE GOOD, NOT AGAINST THE BAD.” YOU CAN FIGHT FOR THE GOOD, BUT YOU CANNOT FIGHT EVIL WITH EVIL — DO YOU UNDERSTAND? AND YET, THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT THE WHOLE WORLD DOES.

A good example of this is the film The Fifth Element. Remember what happened when that massive sphere of Evil was heading toward Earth? The world government chose to destroy it with weapons — and as a result, it only grew larger. In the end, only the love of the heroes was able to defeat Evil.

I understand that many people will take my words skeptically. But I’ve lived through this myself. And I know that it’s love and gratitude for life that can truly change you — and the world around you. I hold no hatred.

Accept that everything that happens in life is the result of our own thoughts and actions. Don’t put yourself in the position of a victim. I’m not saying you should love the guard who beat you — but at least start by not wishing harm to those who, in your view, treated you unjustly. The universe has its own dialogue with them and will sort things out.

My advice to those who have been imprisoned, released, and lost faith in themselves: look — you’ve gone through a serious trial, and you overcame it. You endured. Now, identify your unique qualities — the strengths that your experience gave you. In prison, you learned discipline. Anyone who has spent more than two or three years there has learned to understand people — to feel them. Your intuition has grown. Some gave up alcohol. Some read countless books while others were watching YouTube and scrolling Instagram. Some developed self-control — because prison is full of crises. Appreciate that. You’ve become stronger. Only those who have been there know how terrifying, hard, and miserable it can be. But now we’ve become better.

I sincerely advise you not to see yourself as a victim or believe that others should treat you differently. The sooner you accept that people see you as an ordinary person, the sooner your life will come together again. Don’t expect special treatment. Use the lessons you’ve learned in prison — and integrate into your new life, letting go of the bad for good.