Breaking Cycles: Healing My Trauma to Be the Parent I Needed

I never set out on a healing journey – it found me in the chaos. It crept in during the sleepless nights, in the sharp edges of my own voice when I was overwhelmed, in the quiet moments after the kids went to bed when I couldn’t ignore the ache in my chest anymore. That ache was old. It was layered. It was mine – but it didn’t have to belong to my children.

I’ve carried childhood trauma like an invisible backpack for most of my life. I didn’t always know what to call it. I just knew I felt different, raw, hyper-aware, sometimes numb. I developed habits to cope – some helpful, some harmful. I learned how to survive, but not necessarily how to thrive. Then adulthood added its own chapters. More wounds. More loss. More silent battles.

When I became a parent, I expected the journey to be beautiful and challenging – but nothing could have prepared me for postpartum depression and anxiety. It was a darkness that snuck up on me quietly at first – masked as exhaustion, irritability, restlessness. Then it grew louder. Panic in my chest. Rage I didn’t recognize. Guilt so heavy it made my body ache. I felt like I was failing at the very thing I had longed for. I loved my children deeply, but I was drowning.

That season cracked me open – but it also woke me up. I realized I couldn’t push through this pain like I had in the past. I had to face it. I had to stop surviving and start healing. So I started doing the work. Therapy. Journaling. Honest conversations. Crying in the shower and letting the feelings come instead of pushing them away. I began to unpack the layers of trauma – childhood pain, adult heartbreak, the isolation of postpartum, the pressure to be “okay.”

I started asking: What do I need to feel safe? What patterns am I passing down? What kind of woman do I want my kids to see me becoming?

Healing hasn’t been a straight line. Some days I feel strong, grounded, full of light. Other days I feel raw, shaky, unsure. But I keep going – not because I want to be a “perfect” mom, but because I want to be a present one. A mom who teaches emotional safety by modeling it. A woman who knows her worth and helps her kids know theirs too.

And I’m not healing just for them – I’m healing for me. Because I deserve peace. I deserve to enjoy my life, not just manage it. I deserve to look in the mirror and see someone whole.

To anyone battling trauma, postpartum struggles, or both – I see you. You’re not weak. You’re fighting battles no one else can see. And every step you take toward healing is proof of your strength. You’re not broken. You’re becoming. And you’re allowed to take your time. For yourself. For your children. For the future.

With love,

Jenn