Feminist Advice Friday: How can I end the cycle of generational trauma?

It can stop with you, if you're willing to take a long, hard look at yourself.

A reader asks…

Tell me your thoughts on generational trauma and breaking the cycles

My answer

My mom comes from a long line of trauma survivors. Her mother, my grandmother, buried her baby son when my mom was just a few years old. That loss haunted the rest of her life, and the repercussions have trickled down across generations. Like most women of her era, my grandmother was forced to put on a happy face and pretend all was well, when it wasn’t.

Her grief came out in rage, in unreasonably high demands, and in love that she would turn on and off. She weaponized the love all children depend on. She meant well. She really loved my mother, and could be a profoundly loving presence. She could also be an emotional terrorist.

This is something most of us fail to really understand about abuse. Abuse is intermittent. Abusers often really do love their children. And they abuse them not because they want to hurt them, but because they have their own untended wounds.

When my daughter was barely three years old, we lost her sister. Here I was, 70 years later, reliving the very trauma that had changed everything for my grandmother. I will never get over the loss, because there is no getting over something like that. But I’ve been determined to break this cycle of generational trauma. The death of my uncle has been a shadow over my entire family, and not because of the tragedy, but because of the way it forever changed my grandmother.

I cannot prevent myself from being changed by loss, but I can be forever mindful that this loss means that I am at risk of mistreating my children. Cruelty almost always comes from pain. Your pain can be a source of empathy, or abuse. Or both.

I don’t have all the answers, but I do have some thoughts.

My mother was determined not to be like her mother. She succeeded. Her trauma, though, bubbled up in its own ways. She was almost always a wonderful mother. Sometimes she wasn’t. And when she wasn’t, she hurt us deeply.

I tried, time and again, to talk to her about how her trauma affected us. She couldn’t do it. She would crumble into self-loathing and anger every time. That’s because she was so obsessed with not being like her mother that the very thought of replicating her behavior in any way at all was intolerable to her. It made her hate herself.

So this is my first piece of advice: You must recognize that you are absolutely doomed to repeat the cycles you experienced unless you confront those cycles fearlessly. You must be able to accept criticism. My mom’s tragic error is that she was so fearful of being like her mother that, when she was being like her mother, she couldn’t listen. You must be able to listen. You must not let your shame prevent you from continuously improving.

Every last one of us makes mistakes. If we believe that certain mistakes are unforgivable, or that certain feedback means we have failed terribly, then we will be unable to accept criticism. And the inability to accept criticism is the first step on the road to abusing others.

There is no recipe for being a perfect parent. Each of us will have our own struggles. Right now, my biggest struggle as a parent is managing my older daughter’s anxiety, which is so intense that it now requires me to spend half of my workday at kindergarten with her, and my younger daughter’s sleeplessness, which requires me to wake with her a dozen times a night. I am in the midst of one of parenting’s most trying times.

When you are, too, I hope you’ll remember to always prioritize the relationship over the result. Here’s what I mean by that:

When my kid is melting down, when yours is throwing a tantrum, when any given child is acting out of control, there is not much you can do in that moment to change their behavior. Kids who are overwhelmed by their emotions cannot learn or listen. So in the most difficult moments, ask yourself:

Am I making decisions that improve our relationship or erode it? Will what I am doing help my child feel more secure or less?

Empathy, love, and patience always win. But they are fucking hard. You will fuck up, and when you do, you need to own it and apologize.

I also hope you will remember the following:

• Kids need boundaries and consistency. Good behavior occurs not because of any individual choice—punish or ignore this, reward or praise that—but because of the environment we create. Getting too bogged down in any one size fits all parenting approach is going to yield frustration.

• Always, always prioritize the relationship. I’m saying it again because it’s that important.

• Kids’ emotions matter. No caveats or exceptions. We live in a culture that expects more self-control and emotional labor from children than we ever demand from adults. We expect sad children to sit alone sobbing and comfort themselves. We expect terrified children to get over it without help (and often with someone yelling at them). We call babies manipulative. This is the sin of the last several generations, and we can break the cycle. Your kids’ emotions matter, always. Always.

• You are allowed to tend to your own needs. If you do not, you cannot tend to your children.

• Mom guilt serves no purpose, except preventing you from asking for support. If you make a mistake, apologize and move on.

• This is not all on you. Your partner, if you have one, is every bit as responsible for breaking these cycles as you are. And if they don’t care to try, then they’re not worthy of partnership.