Transcending Trauma: How to Heal Past Pain and Empower Future Generations

When I read Soraya Lane’s visceral description of the ongoing rape of an inmate at Auschwitz by a guard, I was particularly struck by the character’s reactions to the sounds and sensations—the guard’s approach, the smell of his breath, and her struggle to control her own responses, including the mindful and slow eating of the meager rations he’d bring her for “afterwards,” all while facing the overpowering urge to wolf down whatever was put in front of her in the midst of starvation. These sensitivities resonate deeply with my own reactions to certain sounds, like chewing, which trigger intense anxiety and disgust, even though I’ve never experienced abuse of that sort.

Misophonia is a condition characterized by strong emotional responses to specific sounds, such as anger, anxiety, or disgust. Everyday noises like chewing, breathing, or tapping can become overwhelming and unbearable for those affected. It’s not merely a dislike; it’s an involuntary, powerful reaction that impacts mood and behavior.

Although I try to manage my reactions, these intense feelings sometimes slip out as sarcastic comments or misplaced frustration. The internal voice behind these responses often echoes my mum’s strong disdain and criticisms, highlighting how much I’ve internalised her perspective. There are various theories about the causes of misophonia, and for years, I’ve wondered whether my condition arises from my high sensory sensitivity and empathic nature, or if it’s a form of secondary trauma—or perhaps a combination of both.

My mum had a deep aversion to anything she considered uncouth or improper. She was often quick to express her disapproval of burping, swearing, sniffing, or poor hygiene. Public displays like spitting or men scratching themselves filled her with anger, and even casual references to sex would elicit stern looks and sharp comments. I sometimes wonder if her strong reactions stemmed from more direct trauma or if they reflect a pattern that has emerged from our family history.

The most obvious source is my grandfather, her father, who died when she was a child. He was an abusive alcoholic and died of lung cancer. Many people don’t feel the need to dig into their past, finding enough explanation in their upbringing, but for me, it feels like there’s more to it—especially when it comes to the intensity of my misophonia. Learning about inherited trauma has helped me make sense of things that don’t seem to be explained by my personal experiences alone.

For many generations, trauma has been something to be buried or suppressed, with emotional struggles viewed as signs of weakness. Resilience was seen as stoicism, and confronting trauma was thought to worsen the pain. This mentality is still prevalent today, although through modern psychology and figures like Edith Eger and Bessel van der Kolk, we now understand that processing trauma is essential for healing. Trauma, when unaddressed, lingers in both mind and body, affecting not only the individual but future generations.

My grandfather's abusive behavior could have affected me through inherited stress responses, potentially explaining my predisposition to anxiety, hypervigilance, or difficulty regulating emotions. It may also influence how I form relationships, trust others, and cope with challenges – in ways that are advantageous or disadvantageous. On a physical level, trauma passed through generations can lead to chronic stress, which is linked to health problems.

In essence, his behavior might have shaped not just our family dynamics but also my emotional and physical health today. This can manifest in ways we now understand scientifically, such as:

1. Epigenetic Changes: Trauma can alter gene expression, potentially increasing sensitivity to stress and anxiety in future generations.
2. Dysregulation of the Stress Response: An inherited overactive fight-or-flight response may lead to hypervigilance, emotional dysregulation, or chronic stress.
3. Attachment Patterns: Trauma may affect emotional regulation and attachment, leading to difficulties forming secure relationships and managing emotions.
4. Increased Risk for Substance Use or Mental Health Issues: Trauma can elevate the risk of mood disorders or substance abuse across generations.
5. Chronic Health Issues: Trauma-induced stress can contribute to chronic inflammation, which is linked to health issues like cardiovascular disease or autoimmune disorders.
6. Behavioral Patterns: Family dynamics influenced by trauma can lead to re-enactments, such as perfectionism or over-responsibility for others' emotions.

The idea that trauma can be passed through generations emerged from a range of scientific fields, with key contributors like Rachel Yehuda, Dr. Bruce McEwen, and Bessel van der Kolk showing how trauma can be inherited and linger in the body and mind.

In The Choice, a biographical account of her time in Auschwitz and the life she has led in the years since, Dr. Edith Eger reflects on her long-held belief that avoiding trauma was the path to healing, only to realize that true liberation comes from confronting it. She explains how burying the trauma led to deep emotional pain and anxiety, and it wasn’t until she began processing her experiences that she found freedom. Her words, “To heal is to take a risk—to step into the unknown and embrace change,” resonate deeply.

Throughout my life, I’ve sought various ways to confront and heal these deeply rooted patterns. Thought leaders and therapists who understand intergenerational trauma, such as Dr. Gabor Maté, Teal Swan, and Evette Rose, have played a crucial role in helping me uncover the connections between my emotional triggers and past family dynamics. They have also given me tools to manage my reactions and make sense of feelings that once seemed overwhelming or disconnected from my direct experiences.

Holistic and somatic approaches like meditation, hypnosis, Heilkunst, chiropractic care, and energy healing have helped me reconnect with my body, reminding me that trauma isn’t just stored in the mind but can reside in the physical body as well. Practices like journaling, meditation, and spending time in nature have been essential in creating space for introspection, while also offering a release from the constant noise in my head.

Even though I’ve made real progress, I can feel that there are still deeper layers to explore, and that’s completely okay. Healing these deep-seated patterns takes time and a mix of different approaches, especially when they’re connected to family dynamics and inherited trauma. I’ve learned that this journey isn’t a straight path or something that happens quickly; it unfolds in cycles and stages as I gradually peel back layers of old pain and gently bring them to light.

When we confront our trauma and untangle those inherited patterns, we not only improve our own lives but also set a better example for future generations. By breaking the cycle of pain, we build resilience, nurture healthier relationships, and leave behind a more hopeful legacy for our children and their children.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Clear the Fog of Trauma to See the Magnificence of Your Being , Shed the Layers of Pretence - What Does it Truly Mean to Be You? , The Soul’s Yearning – How to Recognise Your Inner Work and Are You Overly Responsible? Actually Seeing Yourself Through Fresh Eyes . To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog .