This is a sensitive topic for me.

For the record, I was not raised in a traumatic environment of abuse. I had access to loving adults who truly wanted to have relationships with me.

My mother was born with a severe learning disability that hindered her in many ways. She was continually made fun of, not just by children but also by adults. Eventually, she married and had a child with a person who treated her similarly to how others had treated her in the past. After an abusive situation, she gathered her strength and left, eventually divorcing him. She later met my father, and they were married. Shortly afterward, Julie and Henry were born but only lived one day due to prematurity. I can only imagine the amount of grief that resulted.

Shortly after the death of her twins, my mother learned that my father, at the age of 27, had cancer. They fought the illness at some point during that time I was born. Five months later (a few days before Christmas), my father passed away.

I’m not really in tune with all that happened between the time of my birth and when I was 5 years old (other than random memories). Still, my grandparents had to intervene to take us in, and my mother agreed to the change. She went out and lived her life however she needed to at the time. I can imagine that my grandparents saved me from more trauma with this change.

My grandparents were great, generous people. My grandmother was really loving, and my grandfather had a huge heart but never showed it. They were close to retirement and tired after their long days at work, so I spent a lot of time alone during the week. Looking back, I can see a certain amount of bitterness that ran through them for failing to take opportunities to live their best lives. At age 16, I lost my grandmother, and that is when I started to pull back from deeper, meaningful relationships.

This is my trauma. Not all of it, but most of it. From an outsider, this is the kind of story that you run comparisons against. Some of you may say, “What’s the big deal?” because you have experienced so much more, and others may say, “That sounds rough to live in a fractured home.” My trauma forced immature coping mechanisms to form.

As a therapist told me once, “Your childhood trauma is yours, and it is 100% real to you, and it isn’t your fault.” I’m afflicted by my trauma even to this day. If you ask any adult, most of them would agree unless they are hiding it away.

And now the point of the post today: what pains me more than dealing with my trauma is that I have projected parts of this, knowingly and unknowingly, onto my family and children. I had a recent realization that I could have had a closer relationship with my wife and children if I had the skills to release more of this trauma earlier in my adulthood. Without flinching, I feel a deep, solid love for my family at my core. Although, my outward expression of that love is clouded by fear.

I recognize that I have projected some of my trauma onto my children, and I want to stop the pattern now. I had a conversation with my oldest child recently in which I explained that “whether you feel it or not, you are carrying some sort of childhood trauma with you. It is up to you to deal with that as an adult.” I have all the confidence that my wife and I can take the skills that we have learned and coach our children to break the chain of generational trauma and empower them with the tools needed to deal with such a detriment.

My hope for you is that you can face your hurts in new ways in 2024. Acknowledgment and acceptance of the issues are where you start, and once you feel you are ready, talk about your hurts. Don’t follow the masses and bury your pain behind a fake smile. Confide in someone close and turn your smile into something real.

My recommendations: daily meditation, therapy, and reflection through journaling.