Introduction:
Listen, I don’t know about you, but one day I woke up and realized I was basically living my grandmother’s life… minus the cool Ankara styles and all her delicious jollof recipes. I had inherited her anxiety, her people-pleasing, and that constant worry of ‘What will they think?’—and the crazy thing is, I didn’t even know who “they” were! If you’ve ever found yourself bending over backward for family, neighbors, and your village aunties, welcome, my dear—you’ve just unlocked a special gift called generational trauma.
But guess what? We’re not keeping it o! I’m here to help you package it nicely, tie it up in a gele, and send it back (with love, of course). Generational trauma is not your birthright, abeg. In this blog, I’ll be spilling all the tea (and maybe some pepper soup) on how we, the millennial warriors of boundary-setting and self-love, can break the cycle and stop living like we’re still in our parents’ village meeting.
When I Realized My Anxiety Wasn’t Actually Mine:
One day, my mom called me stressed about her boss at work. And what did I do? Went into full “African daughter fixer” mode—dropped everything, gave her unsolicited advice, and stressed myself out for the rest of the day. But then it hit me: ah ah, why am I the one worrying about somebody else’s boss? Is it my job? Is it my career? No be me go answer o! That’s when I realized, wait, this thing is deeper than me. This is ancestral stress—passed down from my grandmother to my mother, and now to me, like family heirlooms that nobody asked for.
Generational Trauma’s Greatest Hits:
- You spend your whole life pleasing people who don’t even like themselves. (Abeg, how can?)
- You inherit guilt the same way you inherit your mother’s jollof recipe—passed down with every “Is that how you greet elders?” look from your parents.
- You somehow think you are responsible for everyone’s happiness, but then wonder why your own happiness is permanently on ‘Loading…’ (Network issues!)
How We Break the Cycle:
Ladies, let’s call a family meeting. We’ve been following a script that nobody showed us. Here’s the deal:
- Recognize the Patterns: That anxiety, the overthinking, the fear of what your cousin twice removed thinks about your life choices? It’s been passed down to you like the family agbada. You can’t heal what you don’t see, so first things first, therapy is your first port of call, like buying plantain at the market—don’t bargain too much, just pay and start healing.
- Set Boundaries (and Mean It!): It’s time to draw the line between you and your ancestors’ drama. You tell them, “Thank you for the survival tactics, but I’m not in survival mode anymore. I got this!” Boundaries protect your peace, and let me tell you, that peace is as precious as your mother’s special pot of soup that nobody else is allowed to touch.
- Rewrite Your Story: Sis, you are not destined to be the second season of your family’s drama series. Heal those wounds, take up space, and live fully in YOUR truth. Be the main character in your own Nollywood film!
Ready to return that generational baggage to the sender? Let’s do it together, abeg! Book a free intro call, and I’ll show you how to reclaim your story and create the life you deserve. Your ancestors will understand!
