The space between us
TW: Mentions of trauma and abuse.
There is a space between all of us and our ancestors.
Our age, interests, values, and even geographical distance often marks differences between us that may at times seem even unreconcilable.
My years spent in transition from maiden to mother have lent me insight as to a space, a distance, often left unspoken.
Allow me to, on this day dedicated to all women universally, speak this space out loud, into the abyss.
Intergenerational trauma.
Yuck. I said it. The phrase haunts me. The space haunts me. It creates a space within myself, when left unattended. It is contagious and cancerous.
My experience with intergenerational trauma is complicated, and it has been years that I’ve been receiving slight nudges of intuition pulling at me to speak on. After countless failed attempts at recording myself speaking live, dozens of journals filled, tears wept, a child born, I have somehow arrived at the place where I feel (somewhat) safe to start the conversation.
This comes after a 10 day fight and ultimately surrender to a merciless migraine and a series of visions and hallucinations when in process of releasing a burden the size of an iceberg.
The guilt and shame of my grandmother. The grief and despair of my my meme, her mother, my mother, my aunties, my cousins and sisters. The pain that links us and separates us all at once. It is passed through our bloodline, but never spoken of at dinner. We hold it in the crevices of our birth canal, but we laugh, drink, joke it off. It is the runway of opportunity to connection but requires the strength of a lioness to approach it.m
This intergenerational trauma IS the skeleton in the closet.
Around the time of my pregnancy with my son in 2018 I was recording my terrible thoughts and behaviors including my extreme criticism of time- blaming time for being too short or taking too long. I was documenting my life and all of the ways it fell short of my younger-self dreams and then proceeded to criticize myself for being ungrateful and overly critical.
“Stop criticizing time
“You go too fast
You are taking too long
If only I had more time
If it hadn’t taken so long
I just don’t have any… time”
If we can’t blame someone else, we blame time””
I continue to dictate, how I must be, as a woman and soon to be mother, trying to erase these unpalatable parts of myself,
“Now I have to be soft
because I am a mother.
And a mother to a child who will become a man!
And the son’s of angry mothers
become angry men, who hate women.
and who turn to violence, power and control.”
Here is where my own words penetrated into my soul,
“How do I become soft as this flower?
I have generations of anger and despair woven inside of me.”
If I could describe intergenerational trauma in color, it would be a deep dark murky dirty brown, resembling the textures of an oil spill. And similarly to an oil spill, it would also smell rotten and it would multiply itself slowly but surely reaching all of the water molecules, infecting the soil, and poisoning nearby plants, trees and wildlife. Its an unfortunate event because its not something inherent to the life of a river, it wouldn’t exist if the oil didn’t spill due to a horrible mistake or ill intent. Although the oil spill was not the fault of the river, it now becomes a part of it and continues on in the life and breath of this otherwise natural and innocent world.
There is a weight that comes with intergenerational trauma, something like being tied to a load of bricks and then pulled by a string through quicksand with a burning sun on your back, no water to drink, just … surviving.
I’m talking about this subject not because it’s fun, cool or Sexy.. all things I wish to be but you know, life seems to have other plans for me right now.
I’m talking about it because I have learned through experience, that until I share my story and release this awful and heavy weight I have carried around me for my entire life- I will continue in the same loops and patterns reliving subconscious guilt, shame and fear that isn’t even mine to carry!
I also deeply hope that I can reach people by talking about it. It is extremely hard to take a good honest look at intergenerational trauma for many reasons, here are a few:
It feels extremely uncomfortable to look at how someone else’s action have impacted your life. While this is not about blaming anyone, it is about understanding that someone may have caused a considerable amount of harm to us in subtle (or obvious!) ways that has impacted how we navigate our existence in this world.
Gaslighting from others. People may tell you to “get over it” and “move on”. They might blame you and project on to you their own fears about facing this beast.
It requires you to dig deep and family members will be triggered. You will be triggered. Everyone is triggered. It’s painful, uncomfortable and raw. Many people like to stay on the shallow end, getting deep is scary.
Ultimately it brings responsibility back to you. Because even though you didn’t spill the oil, its now a part of your life and the soil you were planted in, and once you face it you will see the ways it has impacted you and your life.
Sensitive information. While some of this trauma might have happened to you directly, it’s likely that it also impacted other people in sensitive and private ways, it can be a challenge navigating how to share what’s on your heart while still respecting other people’s experiences and privacy.
Gaslighting yourself “Others seem to be handling it fine, why am I so sensitive. Am I being dramatic?” It can be confusing to watch other family members go on with their lives like nothing ever happened. You may start to question and doubt yourself and blame yourself for struggling. Everyone is different, and most likely if you look closely and peel back the layers, they are struggling too.
Full Moon In Virgo
Today is national women’s day and yesterday the full moon was in Virgo. This marks the halfway point in the lunar cycle, also the halfway point to my next birthday.
A point of peak light and illumination.
Illuminating what we must know and see clearly, so that we can move forward. It is a time of purging and release.
This migraine was here for a reason. It forced me into isolation, a kind of aloneness that I didn’t know I needed. It was an energy force leading me to face the shadows of my realities, those things I had been avoiding, and yes, I am referring to trauma. I have had a light shining on all that remains within me from physical and emotional traumas I have faced in this lifetime, and intergenerational trauma that I was born into.
This full moon took place in gate 64, which is a gate I have activated in my human design chart, essentially this means there is additional mental pressure and confusion around this time which, if I allow it to will lead to a point of transcendence, moving thorugh the confusion not acting out of it. I surrendered to this mental pressure and what manifested from it was something out of my wildest dreams.
It started with a hot shower, I felt all of the heaviness on my body, I felt my posture change into a form of a humpback, as though this weight was literally on my shoulders. Then came visions of all of the woman in my lineage from both sides. I felt the weight of all the unprocessed anger, sadness, grief and shame. Slowly the faces dissipated and I saw my grandmothers face. She confessed that she was sorry she was not strong enough to face my grandfather and to protect her children and grandchildren from suffering. She confessed that she chose other priorities in this lifetime, which she would have to come back and relive. She said she knew the weight would be passed down to someone but she didn’t know I would be one of them. She said I don’t have to carry the weight forever, that it will come in feelings of helplessness, feeling like a victim to my circumstances. That it will feel like disempowerment, like I am weak and have no strength to face the challenges in my life, even little set backs might feel enormous, until I can release this pressure.
I had a realization that I have adopted much of my powerlessness from my grandmother, what she embodied in her own life, the excuses she made for the abuse and the abuser. I feel that weight in my body. I felt a weight lifted when I realized it was her weight to carry, my spine began to straighten, my shoulders softened. Even though I will feel the consequences of this trauma I don’t have to carry her guilt with me. I am not here to live a dark and cold life. Her guilt is not mine, her shame is not mine to hold. I will put it into a vase and set it on fire. I will burn it to ashes and throw it into the ocean.
I think what I carry most is my grandmothers unexpressed and unconfused guilt and shame. I suppose I carry it from my grandfather and from those who passed it onto him, but there is a link between me and my grandmother, that I was once in her womb. As a woman I grew to despise her, I rejected her for her weakness, for the pain she participated in, and for the pain she inflicted on me directly. I blamed her for what she did not do to repair. I could not let go of this hatred, for someone who was a part of me. This is one mode that intergenerational trauma lives through, consciously we may feel we are not safe with someone who brought us to this planet, we know our parents were not safe with them, we may begin to reject this person, having come from them and we proceed to inflict that hatred onto ourselves subconsciously. We learn that space and separation is safer than connectedness, or it may even be our only option.
Finally and tragically I remembered that many of us know these sensations, subtle but becoming stronger with age, that often surface in the form of self-criticism, self hatred, overly perfectionistic and feelings of helplessness and depair. I received the message that it is time to share my story, I am here as a messenger for anyone who wants to hear it. The women after, left with the weight of our ancestors barking loudly in our ear as we try to sleep, as we look to weave our dreams into stories of our lives, as we try to become the women we needed when we were young, I hope that through telling our stories maybe we will find closeness in this space, the space that is intergenerational trauma.
Ending note: I would love to connect with you deeper on this subject. If you feel called to share with me, please send me an email at info@eliseestelle.com . You can tell me if you would like to have a statement shared publicly with my following or if you would prefer to share privately with me.
