I push myself hard. I don’t like pain, exactly, but as a ballerina I lived in constant pain. At ballet school in Stockholm, I remember we had a locker where if someone had been to the doctor and gotten painkillers, we divided them among us. In a sense we were all addicted. After I quit dancing, for a while it felt strange not to be in pain. It was as if an old friend, not a good friend but a presence, always tagging along, had left me.
I would never have believed anybody — I would’ve laughed if someone had told me [where I’d be now] a few years ago. I never thought I would work in English-speaking films or abroad. When you’re from a small European country, it’s not really part of your vision of possibility.