Understanding the stories, relationships and strengths we inherit
Have you ever wondered how much of who you are began before you were even born?
Why you respond to certain situations in particular ways? Why you might find it difficult to trust, feel safe, ask for help or allow yourself to be cared for? Why you sometimes feel responsible for everyone around you, or find yourself reacting to something more strongly than you can quite explain?
Perhaps you have questioned why certain patterns seem to repeat in your relationships, or why you carry feelings that are difficult to put into words.
We often look at our lives as though our story began when we arrived in the world. But what if the story of who we are has a much longer history?
In exploring the journey of our hearts, we begin to recognise that our lives are shaped by more than the experiences we encounter ourselves. We arrive within a much bigger human story, one that began long before us and includes the lives, relationships and circumstances of those who came before us.
Before I was born, what was happening?
Before you took your first breath, there was already a world around you. There was a family, a history, a set of relationships, experiences, expectations and circumstances that formed the environment into which you were born.
And before your parents became parents, they too had lives, experiences and stories of their own.
Some of those experiences may have brought happiness, security, love and belonging. Others may have involved hardship, loss, fear, uncertainty or things that were never spoken about.
The people who came before you were shaped by the times they lived in, the families they grew up in and the circumstances they had to navigate. They developed ways of understanding the world, relating to others and finding ways to manage whatever life brought their way.
Some of those ways of being may have continued through generations.
Not necessarily because anyone intended them to, but because this is often how human experience is carried forward.
Imagine being able to step backwards through your family history.
What was happening in the world when your parents were growing up? What were their childhoods like? What did their families value? What was encouraged, and what was discouraged?
Were feelings openly expressed, or was there an expectation to keep things to yourself? Was affection freely given? Was there space for vulnerability, or was being strong and getting on with things considered more important?
Perhaps your grandparents lived through war, bereavement, poverty, displacement or significant uncertainty. Perhaps they experienced a childhood where there was little room for emotional expression, where responsibilities came early, or where survival took priority over personal needs.
Perhaps they experienced loving, secure relationships and had the opportunity to grow up feeling valued and supported.
Every generation has its own circumstances, and every family has its own story.
It is worth remembering that our parents and grandparents were not simply the people we knew as adults. They were once children too. They had their own hopes, fears, disappointments, relationships and experiences that helped shape the adults they became.
Understanding this doesn't mean excusing hurtful behaviour or overlooking the impact of difficult experiences. It means becoming curious about the wider context in which people lived and the influences that may have shaped how they related to themselves and others.
The experiences we carry through relationships
Our earliest experiences of relationships are one of the ways family history becomes part of our own story.
From the very beginning of life, we depend on other people. The care, attention and responses we receive help shape our developing understanding of safety, connection and belonging.
Within families, children gradually learn how relationships work. They observe how people communicate, express affection, manage disagreements and respond to difficult emotions.
Some may grow up knowing that feelings are welcome, that it is safe to ask for comfort and that they can express themselves without losing connection.
Others may learn to become quiet, avoid upsetting people, manage their feelings alone or pay close attention to the moods of those around them.
These ways of relating do not develop in isolation. They are influenced by the relationships and circumstances surrounding us.
For example, a child growing up in a family where emotions are rarely discussed may learn that difficult feelings are best kept private. Another may grow up believing that being helpful, capable or undemanding is the best way to maintain harmony.
As these experiences become familiar, they can influence the ways we approach relationships as adults.
We may recognise similar expectations in our own relationships, sometimes without realising where they first developed.
This is one way in which family patterns can continue across generations. Not as an exact repetition of events, but through familiar ways of responding, relating and understanding the world.
Our bodies have a part in our stories too
Our experiences are not just things we remember. They can also influence how we respond physically and emotionally to the world around us.
Our nervous system continually responds to information from within our bodies and from our surroundings. It helps coordinate our responses to safety, connection, stress and potential threat.
Sometimes we notice these responses clearly. Our heart might beat faster, our breathing may change, our muscles might tighten or we may feel an urge to withdraw.
At other times, our reactions can be much less obvious. We might become restless, feel unusually tired, struggle to concentrate or find ourselves wanting to avoid a situation without fully understanding why.
The work of trauma specialist Peter Levine, who developed Somatic Experiencing, draws attention to the relationship between overwhelming experiences, bodily responses and the nervous system. His approach emphasises developing awareness of bodily sensations and working gradually, rather than assuming that talking through an event is always sufficient.
Deb Dana's work, drawing on Polyvagal Theory, also explores how our nervous-system responses influence our experiences of safety, connection and protection.
Both perspectives offer useful ways of considering how our experiences are reflected in our bodies, and how our sense of safety can be influenced by the people and environments around us.
A reassuring voice, a familiar face, a feeling of being understood or the experience of not having to explain ourselves can all contribute to a sense of connection.
Our capacity to feel safe and connected develops within relationships and continues to be influenced by them throughout our lives.
The things we may have inherited without knowing
Thomas Hübl invites us to look beyond our individual biographies and consider the ancestral and collective dimensions of human experience.
His work explores how the experiences of previous generations and wider communities can continue to influence how we live, relate and respond.
This is an interesting perspective when we begin thinking about family patterns.
Consider a family in which several generations have experienced significant loss. Perhaps emotional expression was difficult, and people learned to carry their sadness privately.
Children may have grown up around adults who were loving but emotionally unavailable, not necessarily through a lack of care, but because those adults had learned to manage life without showing vulnerability.
Over time, keeping feelings to oneself might become familiar within the family.
A later generation may find it difficult to talk about grief, ask for support or allow themselves to depend emotionally on others.
The original circumstances may be long gone, but aspects of the family's way of relating may continue.
This doesn't mean that a particular experience is automatically passed down, or that we can identify the cause of an individual's difficulties simply by looking at their ancestry.
There are several possible pathways through which experiences influence later generations, including family relationships, caregiving, learned behaviours, social circumstances and biological influences.
Research into epigenetics is also investigating how environmental experiences can influence the way genes are expressed.
Although there is growing interest in the biological effects of stress across generations, the precise mechanisms in humans remain an area of research. We cannot currently claim that specific traumatic memories or emotions are stored in our DNA and passed down as memories.
What we can recognise is that our development is influenced by much more than our individual experiences.
Understanding the people who came before us
The work of Dr Bruce Perry on developmental trauma and the developing brain highlights how the developing brain is influenced by the timing, nature and repetition of experiences, particularly during childhood.
Early relationships, caregiving, stress and the availability of safety and support all matter.
His work helps us appreciate why two people who experience seemingly similar circumstances may develop quite different ways of responding. It also reminds us that development continues throughout adulthood, and that new experiences and relationships can influence us at every stage of life.
Gabor Maté offers another thought-provoking perspective. He encourages us to look beyond the behaviour we see and become curious about the experiences that may have contributed to it.
Rather than asking only why someone behaves in a particular way, we might ask what happened in their life that made that response understandable.
A woman who finds it difficult to say no, for example, may have developed a strong capacity to anticipate and meet other people's needs. Perhaps being helpful brought acceptance, reduced conflict or helped her feel secure in important relationships.
What might now feel like an inability to put herself first may once have been an effective way of maintaining connection.
This doesn't mean that every behaviour has an ancestral explanation, or that our past determines our future.
It means that understanding the context of our responses can sometimes open up a different relationship with ourselves.
Instead of judging ourselves for the ways we have learned to cope, we can become curious about what those responses were trying to achieve.
But our inheritance isn't only about what was difficult
There is something else I think is equally important when we explore our family histories.
We can become so focused on what was painful, what was missing or what may have been passed down through difficult experiences that we overlook the other side of the story.
Previous generations may have faced circumstances we can barely imagine.
They may have experienced loss, hardship, uncertainty or considerable responsibility. Yet they also found ways to care for their families, build relationships, create homes, find moments of happiness and keep going.
Perhaps someone in your family had an extraordinary capacity to make people laugh.
Perhaps a grandparent was resourceful, determined or fiercely protective of those they loved.
Perhaps someone showed kindness during difficult times, created opportunities where there seemed to be none, or quietly ensured that the next generation had a better life.
These qualities are part of our family stories too.
We may have inherited ways of being that support us: a capacity to adapt, a love of learning, creativity, determination, compassion, humour or a deep appreciation of connection.
Some of these qualities may have been learned through relationships and observation. Others may reflect a combination of biological and environmental influences.
The important thing is not to assume that our ancestry is simply a history of difficulties to be uncovered.
It is also a history of human resourcefulness, love, resilience and possibility.
What strengths have travelled through your family?
And which of them do you recognise in yourself?
Understanding the past without becoming defined by it
Exploring our history isn't about finding someone to blame, discovering a hidden trauma to explain everything or believing that we must understand every generation before we can move forward.
Nor does it mean that everything we experience today can be traced back to our childhood or ancestry.
We are influenced by our histories, but we are also influenced by the relationships we have now, the environments in which we live, the choices available to us and the experiences still to come.
Understanding where some of our responses may have originated can help us approach ourselves with greater compassion.
We might begin to recognise that being constantly alert once served a purpose. That finding it difficult to trust may have developed in circumstances where trust felt uncertain. That always being the capable one may have become a familiar role long before we had the opportunity to ask whether we wanted it.
And perhaps we can begin to consider whether those responses are still serving us in the same way today.
This is where greater awareness can create the possibility of choice.
We don't have to reject everything that came before us. Nor do we have to carry forward everything simply because it is familiar.
We can acknowledge the experiences that shaped previous generations, recognise the strengths they passed on and begin to consider what we would like to nurture in our own lives and relationships.
What might you discover if you looked beyond your own story?
Perhaps you might discover something about your parents that you had never considered.
Perhaps you might begin to understand why certain family patterns developed, or recognise qualities in yourself that have been present in your family for generations.
You might find unanswered questions, stories that were never shared or experiences that remain difficult to understand.
And you might discover that there are parts of your history you want to celebrate, remember and hold close.
You don't need to know every detail of your family history for this exploration to be meaningful. Sometimes simply becoming curious is enough to begin seeing yourself differently.
You might like to spend a little time reflecting on these questions:
- What was happening in the world and within my family when I was born?
- What experiences might my parents have been carrying when they became parents?
- What do I know about the lives of my grandparents and those who came before them?
- What did previous generations learn about love, safety, relationships and belonging?
- Were there things that were difficult to talk about, express or ask for?
- What ways of coping or relating do I recognise in myself?
- Are there family patterns that I would like to understand more deeply?
- What strengths, qualities and resources have I inherited or learned from those who came before me?
- What would I like to carry forward, and what might I now choose to approach differently?
You may not have answers to all of these questions. You don't need to. They are invitations to curiosity, not questions with right or wrong answers.
The story began before you, but it doesn't end with you
Perhaps understanding our family history allows us to see ourselves within a much bigger picture.
We can recognise the experiences that shaped those who came before us, acknowledge the qualities and strengths that have travelled through generations, and become more conscious of what we want to carry forward.
We are not simply the product of our ancestry or our past. We are shaped by our experiences, our relationships, the world around us and the possibilities that remain ahead.
Our story has roots in the lives of those who came before us, but it continues to unfold through the lives we live today.
If you would like space to explore how your own experiences, relationships and family history may be influencing your life today, online counselling for women offers an opportunity to approach these questions with curiosity, understanding and compassion.
This article draws on ideas from the work of Thomas Hübl, Peter Levine, Gabor Maté, Deb Dana and Dr Bruce Perry, alongside research into attachment, early development and intergenerational influences. Their approaches are not identical, and some of the proposed mechanisms of transgenerational trauma remain under scientific investigation.