My story with generational trauma and why healing is a daily act of self-love

I grew up with feelings that I couldn't classify.

With a shame that wasn't mine.

With a fear that was older than me.

With a silence that was embedded in every wall.

Only much later did I understand:

It wasn't just my pain.

It was the trauma that was passed on to me.

Unspoken. Unseen. But powerful.

Sexual abuse, psychological violence, the silence and covering up, my mother's turning a blind eye, my father's emotional coldness – all of this was part of my story before I could even write it.

I'm the first one to look.

Who no longer remained silent.

Who said: This stops now.

And no – healing is not a goal.

It is a daily process.

A constant remembering and rewriting.

A courageous standstill where everyone used to look away.

I've struggled through deep valleys—eating disorders, depression, panic attacks, toxic relationships.

But I'm alive.

And I'm learning. Every day.

Because life is a learning process –

otherwise we would probably be dead.

I'm not just taking this path for myself.

I also make it for my children.

So they can breathe freely.

So that they know: It is possible to love yourself.

Even with a story that is difficult.

Even with an origin that was full of shadows.

And yes – I will also pass on a small part to you.

Because I'm not perfect.

Because healing doesn't mean dissolving everything.

But I no longer give them what I received myself.

But something real.

Conscious.

Human.

I give them my struggles. My questions. My courage.

And the freedom to write their own story.

Takeaway:

Recognizing generational trauma is the first step.

To break through it – the bravest.

And passing it on – as a strength rather than a burden – is the greatest gift we can give.

Even if a small part remains.

Because that, too, is life. Real. And holy.

Sender:

I AM WOMAN – Your self. Your freedom. Your life.

Your first step - now!