Prema helped me see something I’d never articulated: I wasn’t just carrying survivor’s guilt — I was unconsciously trying to stay small so I wouldn’t surpass my parents. As if my success would somehow diminish their worth. When she had me turn toward them in the constellation and say, “I take the life you gave me and I make something big with it — to honor you,” something broke open. I realized that my success wasn’t a betrayal. It was the whole point.

Prema asked about anyone in my family who had experienced sudden loss or tragedy. I mentioned my great-aunt, who lost three children during the war. We never talked about her — she was a ghost in the family story. When we mapped her on the board, I understood: I had been unconsciously refusing to be “too happy” out of loyalty to her suffering. As if my joy would be a betrayal. When Prema guided me to say, “I see your suffering. It belongs to you. And I will let myself live fully,” I cried in a way I hadn’t in years.

I was nervous about the “woo” factor. But Prema is incredibly grounded. There’s no incense or spirit summoning. She asked direct questions, we placed figures on a board, and I immediately saw something that shocked me: I was unconsciously following the fate of my uncle who died young and recklessly. I never knew him, but I was living as if I had to “complete” his unlived life. When Prema guided me to say, “Uncle, I see you. Your fate was yours. I will live fully — in my own way,” I felt a weight lift that I didn’t know I was carrying.

Prema asked me something no one had asked before: “What did your mother not receive from her mother?” I didn’t know the full story, but I knew my grandmother had been cold and distant after losing a child. Suddenly the map made sense: my mother was never “filled up” as a child, so she had nothing to give. And I was trying to break a chain while still being tangled in it. The moment Prema had me turn toward my grandmother in the constellation and say, “I see your pain. It is too big for me to carry,” I felt my shoulders drop for the first time in months.

I didn’t think we’d work on my father directly — I felt “done” with that. But Prema suggested we look at the system, not the story. On the board, she had me place my father, his father, and his father’s father. I saw three generations of men who felt like failures to their families. My father wasn’t cold because of me — he was frozen in his own inherited shame. When Prema guided me to say, “Father, I see what you carried. I leave it with you. And I take my own life now,” I felt something shift in my chest that I can’t explain logically.

My biggest reservations were privacy and whether I’d feel overwhelmed emotionally. Prema set the container so clearly — I felt safe, guided, and in control the entire time. During the constellation, we uncovered a grief in my lineage that I had been carrying as if it was mine. The shift wasn’t dramatic or performative — it was quiet and real.

Prema asked about my father’s side of the family. I mentioned casually that my grandfather had lost everything in a failed business and died in debt. She paused and said, “Let’s look at that.” We mapped it out, and I saw it clearly for the first time: I was unconsciously keeping myself below his “level” to stay loyal to him. As if succeeding would be a betrayal. When she guided me to say, “Dear Grandfather, I honor your fate, and I will live mine fully” — something unlocked in my chest.

I was skeptical about doing this over Zoom, but within the first 20 minutes, I forgot we weren’t in the same room. Prema had me place figures on a digital board, and suddenly I could see it — I was standing in my grandmother’s position. She lost her husband at 32 and never partnered again. I had unconsciously decided that I would carry her grief. When Prema guided me to “hand it back,” I sobbed for the first time in years. Not dramatic crying — a quiet, ancient release.