There's a photo that’s fascinated me since the first time I saw it. It's of my mom on her fourth birthday, which I know because of the inscription on the back. She’s nuzzling her own mother, both of them seated on the stage of a sixties-era venue, and my grandmother is gazing into the distance with a smile. It’s a very sweet moment. It’s also a very strange photo for me, because I never knew them like this. The relationship I knew of my mom and her mom was one of seething anger (my grandma’s) and constant hurt and defensiveness (my mom’s.) Theirs was a pain that began long before I arrived, but that cast a shadow over my childhood, and everything in my mother’s life.
"We're All Just Doomed Then?" - Inherited Family Trauma & Bodies That Keep Score
I recently made a post about a subject I find fascinating - inherited family trauma and how it might be affecting our lives today. There's evidence to show that we can inherit and carry reactive behaviors and mannerisms for at least three but possibly up to SEVENTEEN generations back. The response was wildly divisive.