Breaking the Cycle: How I Refused to Let Generational Trauma Define Me
Being adopted shaped me in ways I didn’t understand as a child. I carried the weight of not fully knowing my roots, wondering where I truly belonged, and navigating a family dynamic that was both loving and flawed. My parents—the ones who raised me—loved me deeply, but they too carried wounds from their pasts. My father’s hidden abuse and my mother’s own trauma shaped our home, even as love was present. On the surface, life looked normal. But underneath, patterns of fear, anger, and survival ran deep. I inherited responses to trauma I didn’t fully understand: hypervigilance, anger that flared too fast, fear of intimacy, and a constant need to protect myself emotionally. As a teenager, these patterns became rebellion, isolation, and behaviors that pushed people away even those who wanted to love me.
Being adopted didn’t cause these patterns, but it did amplify the questions I carried: Who am I? Where do I truly belong? How do I navigate the legacy of trauma in a family that isn’t biologically mine but is still deeply connected to my identity?
Faith became my anchor. It reminded me that identity is not just inherited; it can be chosen. Transformation didn’t happen overnight, but it started when I recognized the cycles of trauma I had absorbed—and made a conscious decision to interrupt them.
Here’s how I broke the cycle: Awareness:
I had to see the patterns clearly—anger, fear, emotional withdrawal—and acknowledge them as inherited, not innate.
Action: I learned to pause before reacting, regulate my emotions, set boundaries, and respond intentionally instead of letting history dictate my life.
Faith: Prayer, meditation, scripture, and reflection reminded me that I am not bound by the past. I am capable of choosing differently. Being adopted also gave me a unique perspective: I could honor my roots without letting them define me. I could love my parents for who they were while refusing to repeat the trauma I had inherited. I could rewrite the story for myself.
Breaking generational curses as an adopted child is both a challenge and a gift. It requires honesty, courage, and faith. It requires choosing your identity and your responses, rather than letting history decide for you.
Today, I am no longer controlled by fear, anger, or inherited trauma. I am intentional, accountable, and grounded. I am a living example that even when your beginnings are complicated, your ending doesn’t have to be defined by the pain of the past.
