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  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • 3 days ago

Breaking the cycle of generational trauma begins with awareness and the brave decision to do things differently—even when it’s hard. By choosing healing over silence, we create a new legacy where pain doesn’t get passed down, but transformed.

It Didn’t Start With You—But It Can End With You: Breaking the Cycle of Generational Trauma

We inherit more than our grandmother’s eyes or our father’s laugh—we carry stories, unspoken rules, and survival patterns passed down like heirlooms. But not all inheritances are visible. Generational trauma is the emotional and psychological pain passed from one generation to the next, often without a name or language to describe it. It can show up as anxiety that never seems to have a source, patterns of emotional neglect, or relationship dynamics that feel impossible to change.


Breaking this cycle doesn’t mean blaming our parents or shaming the past—it means recognizing what we’ve carried and choosing, consciously, to do something different. And while that journey is deeply personal, it’s also profoundly healing for future generations.



Where Does Generational Trauma Begin?


Often, it begins with a traumatic event that overwhelms a person or community's ability to cope—war, abuse, neglect, addiction, racism, forced displacement. When left unprocessed, the emotional fallout can shape parenting styles, attachment, and core beliefs about safety, love, and worth.


Trauma may be passed down biologically (studies in epigenetics have shown trauma can affect gene expression) and behaviorally (through modeling, silence, or overcompensation). A child raised in a household where emotional expression was unsafe may grow up to unconsciously repeat those same dynamics—or swing to the other extreme.


What Breaking the Cycle Looks Like


Breaking generational trauma isn't about being perfect—it’s about being intentional. It might look like:


  • Naming the pattern: Acknowledging that what you experienced wasn’t “normal,” even if it was common in your family.

  • Seeking therapy: Especially trauma-informed therapy like EMDR, IFS, or somatic approaches, to help process what your nervous system learned long ago.

  • Setting boundaries: With family members who may still operate from a place of hurt or denial.

  • Learning new parenting tools: If you're a parent or caregiver, practicing conscious, respectful, and attuned parenting can change everything.

  • Building emotional literacy: Learning how to sit with difficult feelings, communicate needs, and stay grounded.

  • Forgiveness—not as approval, but release: Sometimes we carry anger that was never ours. Forgiveness can be a way of setting ourselves free.


Turning the Tide in the Moment: How to Interrupt the Cycle


One of the most powerful ways to break trauma cycles is in real-time—during those everyday moments that used to tip into explosions or shutdowns. Here are examples of how to turn anger and frustration into healing:


You feel yourself about to yell at your child: Instead of repeating what was done to you, pause. Take a breath. Say aloud, "I'm feeling really overwhelmed right now. I need a moment to calm down so I can respond with care." You’re modeling regulation—not perfection.


Your partner triggers you, and you want to withdraw or lash out: You pause and say, "I want to connect with you, but I'm feeling activated right now. Can we take a break and come back to this in 10 minutes?" You’re showing that space is a form of love, not rejection.


Your child spills something and the reflex to punish rises: Instead of reacting, you kneel to their level and say, "Mistakes happen. Let's clean this up together." You’re teaching that mistakes aren’t met with fear but with growth.


These micro-moments of intention are where the deepest generational healing happens.



Healing Is Contagious


When one person heals, they shift the emotional tone of an entire family system. Children of parents who seek healing often grow up with a healthier foundation for relationships and self-worth. And even if the rest of your family isn’t on board, your inner work can still echo through generations.


When the Family Won’t Acknowledge the Pain


One of the hardest parts? Doing this work when those around you deny anything ever happened. The silence can feel louder than the trauma. But your healing doesn’t require their permission. It requires your truth, your courage, and often, a supportive therapist or community who can help you remember you’re not crazy—you’re breaking cycles.


Start Small, But Start


You don’t have to rewrite the whole family story overnight. Start with one step: journaling your truth, finding a therapist, reading a book on trauma, or practicing self-compassion. Each small act is a thread in a new legacy—one you get to weave.


So Here’s the Question:


If it didn’t start with you—but you could end it—what would you want your story to become?


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  • Writer: Rowena Poole | Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer
    Rowena Poole | Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer
  • May 4
Rebuilt by Kindness: Finding Hope in the Most Unexpected Places

At just sixteen years old, I needed help. I don’t remember much about the preceding days. It crept up on me. I was a frog in boiling water, unaware of the decline in my mental health. When I was finally forced to pay attention, I had hope that my parents could help me. Maybe they did try at first to no avail, but I was sent away. I was too caught up in my own drowning, that I didn’t look to see what they were doing. It still feels like they gave up on me too quickly.


The Breaking Point: When the World Feels Too Heavy


I found myself in a strange place, surrounded by other young adults like me. There were art supplies, puzzles, and games. But we were all treated like inmates.


I tried to heal there. I kept my head down, put in the effort, but nobody acknowledged it. I was never sent home. Was I seen as being manipulative? Only saying what the professionals wanted to hear? Days turned into months, and eventually all I could do was sit on my bed and cry. I was alone and powerless. I had no legal say in the matter, the matter that centered around me. My parents had given up and abandoned me. They would not take me home. I was stuck.


The People You Least Expect


First, it was just me. But then there was a nice girl or two whom I could talk to. It was not a cure, but it did make the situation feel slightly less intimidating. There were some staff members who were extra kind. They would tell me what was happening behind closed doors. It gave me a slight twinge of hope that things could be okay.


Finally, finally, after seven months, I was free. It has been seven years since then, and I continue to find new people who fix something they did not break. In the beginning, there were classmates who were surprisingly understanding. New friends in my later teen years who never judged. Old friends who have seen every side of me and never abandoned me. People come and go. A lot of the people who helped put me back together, even if they had no idea they were doing it, are no longer active in my life. But I never forgot who they once were to me.



I currently have a nice group of friends, whom I grew close to during my senior year of college. Some of them know more details than others, but they are all part of my support system, all the same. Some people are good to talk to, and some people are good to escape from the world for a little while with. People build each other up in many different ways.


Trust Reimagined: Learning to Believe Again


I realized that I can be open and honest with certain people. While I still avoid telling my parents anything, I currently have a nice handful of people I know I can trust. It was not easy to get here. In the past seven years, several people have left my life of their own volition. Several people have still broken me. Learning to trust anyone in life is a trial-and-error sport. I have learned that the best approach is to go slowly. Find people you enjoy spending time with. Try to open up a crack of something personal. If the action is reciprocated, then it might be safe to dive deeper. The ironic part for me, was that the deeper I dove in, the less I felt like I was drowning.


I could breathe.


I have people I can go to on a regular basis with any sort of problem, and I know they will be there to help. The scariest part is over. The trust is there. It started small, but I worked hard at growing it.


Moments That Mattered: Tiny Acts, Big Healing


The small act of staying judgment-free talks millions. There have been times when I would need a friend to help get me through a situation. Sometimes I would not want to talk about it, and letting it rest really helped me process. Other times, I would engage in deep conversation with those who are a little closer to me. There have been times I had a conversation with a close friend, and there have been times when I’ll just watch a movie with someone and bury the hard times in a big bowl of ice cream. Sometimes it’s simply the presence of someone you love and care about that’s enough for you. They never judge. They never pry. They are there for you when you need them, ready with a hug and an ear.


What I Would Tell Someone Who Is Losing Faith


I know what it’s like. I lived through it myself. Your anger and your pain are justified. When the world seems too dark, remember that I am living proof that it does get better. There are people who are here for you. You may not know them yet, and they may not be who you expect. It does get better. I know you’re tired of hearing that. But you do not need to go through this alone. Keep fighting, and you will find the people who will help build you back up. You might be surprised how many good people there still are in the world. You might surprise yourself with how strong and brave you can be. The bravest thing you can do right now is continue forward. I believe in you. Please believe in yourself.



Still Healing, Still Human


I continue on my journey after seven years, and for all the years that lie ahead. It was not a one-and-done situation. Some of my relationships and trust have been permanently damaged. I go forth with an understanding that it is inevitable I will be hurt again. That being said, I also know that there will be new people and new relationships to nurture. All I can do is hope that I can work hard enough to make the best ones last.


Since getting through the darkest of times at sixteen, I have graduated from both high school and college. I work hard at earning things I want. I share my stories. I made some excellent friends. I have also lost friends, been heartbroken, been devastated, and had to make really tough decisions. But I learned that life has its ups and downs. Making a really hard choice can ultimately be better for your mental health. I speak with a therapist twice a month to stay as on track as possible. I picked up a plethora of coping skills throughout the years, and I continue to use the ones that work. I need to work through my trauma responses and the lasting effects.


Scars can heal. The ones that didn’t got covered up by a beautiful tattoo that I am proud to show off. The best thing we can do is continue to learn, to grow, to speak, and to help.


Carlie Malott

Rowena Poole

Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer of Moody Melon Magazine

I am a multimedia storyteller with a passion for supporting mental well-being. With a background in animation and creative writing, I use my skills to share meaningful messages that promote understanding and positive change.

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  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • Apr 29

Childhood abuse shapes adult relationships in subtle yet powerful ways, influencing how we trust, communicate, and handle emotional intimacy. If you've ever wondered why love feels difficult or why conflict feels threatening, it may be because childhood abuse shaped your adult relationships more than you realized.

Breaking the Cycle: How Childhood Abuse Shapes Adult Relationships—and How You Can Heal

Some of the deepest scars we carry into adulthood are the ones no one else can see. They come from the words never said, the hugs never given, the love never consistently shown. If you grew up in a home marked by emotional abuse, neglect, or manipulation, it’s likely those early wounds are still echoing through your adult life—especially in your closest relationships.


Childhood abuse doesn’t just stay in the past. It shapes how we trust, how we express love, how we argue, and how we handle fear. And if it’s left unhealed, it can silently thread itself through your marriage and your parenting, passing its pain from one generation to the next.

But here’s the good news: you are not doomed to repeat what you lived through. You can break the cycle.


The Marriage Mirror


In adult relationships, especially marriage, unresolved childhood trauma often resurfaces. You may find yourself withdrawing when things get too emotional or lashing out when you feel unseen. Your partner may become a symbol—consciously or not—of your parents: the ones who ignored, invalidated, or hurt you. This projection can make it hard to distinguish your current reality from your painful past.



Small arguments feel threatening. Affection may feel foreign. You may crave closeness and fear it at the same time. All of this is normal for someone who never had safe emotional modeling growing up—but it doesn't have to be permanent.


These reactions often stem from deep-seated beliefs formed in childhood, shaped by the emotional tone of our earliest relationships:


  • “I'm unlovable” — If your parents withheld affection, criticized you constantly, or made love feel conditional, you may carry this belief like a shadow. It manifests as self-sabotage in relationships: pulling away before someone can “see the real you,” or staying in toxic dynamics because you believe that’s the best you can get. Love may feel foreign—or even unsafe—because your blueprint for it was damaged from the start.


  • “Conflict is dangerous” — If yelling, violence, or emotional explosions were part of your home growing up, any kind of disagreement now may send your nervous system into overdrive. Even healthy conflict can trigger fear, shutdown, or panic. As a result, you might avoid difficult conversations altogether, suppress your needs, or shut your partner out—all in an attempt to keep the peace, even at your own emotional expense.


  • “I need to be perfect to stay safe” — When love was tied to performance—when you were only praised for good grades, quietness, or obedience—perfectionism becomes a survival strategy. You may now place impossible expectations on yourself (or your partner), equating mistakes with rejection. This belief can lead to burnout, resentment, and a sense of never being “enough” no matter how much you give.


These beliefs aren’t character flaws—they’re coping mechanisms. Your mind built them to protect you when you were too young to protect yourself. But now, they can keep you from the very connection you long for.


Parenting With Wounded Hands


When we become parents, many of us vow to do better than what we experienced. But breaking generational patterns takes more than just good intentions. It takes self-awareness, support, and deep inner healing.


If your childhood was full of criticism, you might become overly permissive as a parent, fearing you’ll become “too harsh.” Or, you might overcorrect in the other direction, becoming controlling or anxious about getting everything “right.” You may struggle with emotional regulation, modeling instability without meaning to.


Children don’t need perfect parents. They need present, emotionally attuned parents—ones who are willing to say “I’m sorry,” to model growth, and to break the silence that shaped their own upbringing.


The healing begins with you. The curse ends with you.


Rewriting Your Story


Healing from childhood abuse is not easy, but it is possible. You can:


  • Seek therapy to understand and reprocess your trauma.

  • Set boundaries with harmful or triggering family members.

  • Develop self-compassion by learning to talk to yourself with kindness.

  • Communicate vulnerably with your partner about your needs and triggers.

  • Learn emotional regulation so your reactions align with the present, not the past.


This is not just about healing for your own sake—it’s about creating a legacy of safety, trust, and unconditional love for those around you.



Final Thought


You may not have chosen what happened to you in childhood. But you can choose how your story continues.


Are you ready to stop surviving your past and start building a future rooted in connection and healing?


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