If I am here before you today,

me, Karine, a 42-year-old woman,

it's to share a human experience with you.

No, I didn't invent the light bulb,

not even the butter slicer,

and besides, I wouldn't even be able to.

If I am here before you,

while my legs, my hands
are shaking like never before,

and my insides at this moment
are turning into a liquid state,

(Laughter)

it's to talk to you
of this ability we all have,

I am sure of it,

to transform every hardship,
however painful,

into something positive,
first of all for yourself

and for others as well.

I am here before you
but I should be dead.

But not from sickness, no,

not as a consequence
of a serious accident,

no, none of that, 
but I'll come back to it later.

There was a time when I had everything,

an exciting job,

my soulmate as a husband

and a child, a girl.

My existence was following
a perfectly peaceful path.

We both had careers,

we changed cars regularly,

we went on vacations,
we owned an apartment

and then we began to dream
of a house, a beautiful house.

My husband would have drawn the plans,
I'd have thought about the decoration,

There would have been a yard for the kids,

yes, we had decided to have others,

and for the cat as well.

In short, everything was perfect,

comfortably commonplace.

And then everything fell apart :

for 3 years, violent events
came up one after another

with relentless regularity.

First my professional life

paid the price of 
a labor court procedure.

I was the one who took it on.

Psychological harassment.

At first, I won,

then without too much explaining,

justice took away with one hand

what they had given me with another.

I have to say that psychological
harassment is so subtle.

Above all, I lost a lot of money
and self-esteem.

In the middle of all this,
I was pregnant with my second child.

Another girl though,
but we were happy.

I also lost her,

at birth.

She died in my womb,

I had to give birth to her,

and accept that
I would never hear her cry.

Accept that she had left me forever.

She was so beautiful, so perfect.

And then, my husband that left me,

4 months after
the birth of our third child.

I was strongly set on
recovering from my failures though,

but I lost him too.

There, that was the final blow.

That's how I ended up

lost, alone in the world,

alone in my world

that had become a real nightmare.

A permanent nightmare!

Filled with suffering, grief,

fear, and emptiness.

I had no husband, no job,

no money,

with two young dependent children
and tons of mourning to do.

All my dreams had gone up in smoke.

Getting back on my feet?
I thought it was an impossible mission.

Anyway, each attempt
to get myself out of this situation

by sheer mental force

ended in failure.

Finding a job: failed!

Finding love, in my state,

failed!

Oh when it has us in its grip!

Yes, at that moment,
I almost jumped.

It was from the top of my balcony
on the 5th floor,

one July evening almost 5 years ago.

I didn't do it, but, you will admit,
given my situation,

the idea was rather tempting.

No, that day, I made the difficult 
choice to stay alive.

I say difficult, because at that instant,
to die would almost have been a relief.

But I made the choice to stay alive,
at least in appearance.

For many months,
I was unable to move,

I just survived,

with an empty heart,

a stomach full of heavy hardships,

that were indigestible.

The more time went by,

the more I began to shut myself
in my victim skin

that ended up fitting me wonderfully:

I had become a master
in the art of negativity.

I am completely useless, 
I'll never get anywhere.

Why does fate deal such a cruel hand?

What did I do to deserve all of this?

When will the tide finally turn?

Do you know what happens
when you have nothing left to lose?

Because then, I must say,
I had nothing left to lose.

When you have reached that low,
you want it to stop, to change.

If I was to live,

I was ready to try everything
as long as it changed the state I was in.

Everything or almost,
I remained vigilant, attentive.

My survival instinct
still worked, after all.

Nevertheless, something strange happened.

I let go of
my last mental resistances.

I gave up control,

and everything opened up,

everything became possible.

I first met someone,
and then another and another.

New people, 
some were strangers,

it was as if we had
to be put on the same path

not for nothing, not by chance.

It was as if we had to meet, to talk,

everything sounded very right.

These people,
with simplicity and benevolence,

showed me a whole different way
of seeing things

with such good sense.

They taught me about changing posture,

And what I was hoping for finally came.

It changed everything.

Eventually, a part of me decided
to get back on my feet.

A part of me decided
to face things head-on,

pushed me to look at
myself right in the face.

Me, enclosed in my self-victimization,

I was finally able to take a step back,

to look at the events from a distance.

Look, it's like a movie theater,

If you fix the eye of the camera

on an element of the setting
that is particularly terrifying

then zoom out
again, again, and again,

put this element back
into its global context,

into its place, all of a sudden,
it becomes a lot less frightening.

I was finally able to bring

the tragic events 
of my existence into perspective.

I was finally able to see the space
that remained for the rest.

And since I was alive,
that space was immense.

Changing posture
allowed me to review the story

while keeping in mind 
my share of responsibility.

That's right, we all have 
a share of responsibility

in everything that happens to us
in our life.

And saying that doesn't mean
beating yourself up,

on the contrary.

There is our share,

which we can act on,
understand, intergrate,

ingest, heal if needs be,

to change our manner of being,
to no longer imitate.

And there is the share
of responsibility of others.

That which has to be left to them.

The share that is 
impossible to intercede on.

That which you have to let go of,
accepting being powerless.

How arrogant, if we think about it,

to believe that we have
the ability to intervene

on the part of others' responsibility.

How exhausting really.

I want justice to be fair.

I want my daughter to live.

I want my husband to stay.

All this, I let go of

and I already felt a lot lighter.

Well I have to confess to you,

changing posture
didn't happen in one day. No.

Obviously,
I made a few round trips

here and there.

And obviously, the victim in me
came out on a few occasions

and by the way,
it still does sometimes.

But I see it coming now,
and I face it head-on right away.

It became a reflex.

Imagine how magic changing posture is,

how it changes everything.

Our view of ourselves, of others,

of life in general.

It even allows for humor.

It opens doors, horizons, possibilites,

and at times even,

it reveals hidden treasures
here, there, on the inside,

that we didn't imagine.

Inside me, since childhood
there was a hidden desire to write.

I was doing it, well,
it was my career,

but I decided to do it differently,

for pleasure.

So I wrote a text,

texts filled with humor,

stuffed with irony

to talk about my experiences,

about women, kids, men,

about women with kids
who are looking for men

and about society in general.

I wrote one, then two, then 13,

then I opened a Facebook page
to share them,

and it worked.

"Bravo,

it's basically my life",
said the comments

One day, I compiled them,

then I sent them to an editor
found by chance on the internet.

The editor needed 40 pages,
I had exactly 40.

I still remember
the day he replied,

this "Yes",

this setence full of compliments

that talked about the unanimity
of the reading commity.

Joy brings about joy,

it brings about effort,
the desire to move forward,

to leave the past behind you,

without ignoring it, oh no,

but transforming it.

Transforming indigestible things
into positive things.

Transforming hardship
into experience for what comes next.

And then I started my own business.

I had no job,

I created one fit to my size,
made for me.

Writing for others,
articles, brochures, okay.

But also portraits, story-telling,

recounting stories.

Recounting those that do
and what motivates to do,

in depth.

To find their meaning
and to bring it to light.

I don't really know
what life has in store for me,

but I am no longer afraid.

I love my life down
to the smallest details,

and if I were to do it again,

I wouldn't change a thing.

Because I know that the hardships
that I experienced

contributed to the woman
that I am today.

What a gift!

I am still writing,

there is a new manuscript
that is circulated in the editors' office.

Because through my story,
I intend to bear witness

of this power, our power,
to change posture

in order to overcome,
to transform everything.

Hardship into experience,
Experience into the power of life,

yes, I intend to bear witness

because I know that hardships,

small or large,

can affect each and every one of us.

They have no race, culture, or border.

In my close environment 
at the moment,

there is a woman whose husband
is dying from cancer,

and to stick the knife deeper, their only
child has a degenerative disease

and he will perhaps not
be able to grow old.

I know what this woman will go through.

Perhaps she will find herself
in her turn.

Perhaps she will not believe 
herself capable of picking herself up.

So if my account 
could help her a little...

But beyond tragic situations,
I must tell you,

changing posture works every time.

So there are many situations
in everyday's life

that can put you on
the small floating victim's island.

Imagine,

your youngest chooses the day

of that unavoidable business meeting

to get up in the morning
with a 104 degree fever

"Shit! This kid! This can't
be happening, I can't handle this!"

You light the last candle,
the meal is ready,

you're wearing your 
special romantic evening dress.

The telephone rings, it's your husband,
he seems embarrassed,

"Yes, honey, it's me,
I'm calling you quickly, I am sorry,

tonight I'm coming home late,
I have a meeting."

"I'm fed up with this guy!"

Your boss asks you, kindly but firmly,

to postpone the day
you leave for vacation,

when your bags are already packed

and in the trunk of your car,
your family is waiting,

the plane takes off in 2 hours...

So tired of this shit job.

Last case, an old lady,

totally impolite but sure of herself,

cuts you in the line at the till
at the super market,

pushing you.

Old hag!
Floating victim's island.

Change your posture immediately!

What is your share of responsibility 
in what is happening to you?

What is making you suffer so much?

What had you planned?

What are you a victim of?

And by the way, are you the victim?

And then, leave the share
of responsibility to the others.

Finally, open up here.
Let the creativity come.

Invent, imagine, laugh, transform!

It is almost 5 years
that I should have been dead.

If I had been told 
that I'd be here, now,

sharing my human experience with you...

that changing my posture saved me

and then that it still saves me
everyday.

Because it allows me to be alive,

so alive, and happy to be it.

Thank you.

(Applause)