What We Inherit Emotionally: Breaking Generational Patterns in Silence | Pause & Breathe Journal by JBE Mindful Pathways

Pause and Breathe | JBE Mindful Pathways
Journal Entry: What We Inherit Emotionally

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Dear Me,

July 7th, 2025

The first time I realized that silence could be a weapon, I was nine years old. My mother’s anger had always been loud, a storm that crashed through our home, but that day, after the storm had passed, the silence that followed was even more terrifying. It was then I understood that some of the heaviest things we carry aren’t just ours—they’re passed down to us, generation after generation… That day taught me that silence can speak louder than words, and that the emotions we inherit often shape the way we navigate the world. I realized that my mother’s silence was her way of coping with pain that had been passed down to her. And in that moment, I understood that healing starts with recognizing these patterns and choosing to break the cycle. This journey of acknowledging what we inherit emotionally is both humbling and empowering, and it’s through this process that we find our true voice and begin to heal.

There are things I carry that I know didn’t start with me.

The way I flinch when someone raises their voice. The instinct to apologize before I’ve even done anything wrong. The way I hold my breath when I’m overwhelmed, like breathing too loudly might make everything worse. These reactions live in my body like ghosts that don’t know they’ve overstayed their welcome.

Lately, I’ve been wondering where these patterns come from. Why does sadness feel familiar, almost like home? Why does peace sometimes feel suspicious, like it might vanish at any moment?

The older I get, the more I see the echoes.

I see my mother’s anxiety in my pacing. My father’s silence in my shutting down. My grandmother’s grief in the way I hold on too tightly.

And maybe, just maybe, some of the love too.

But no one really talks about the emotions we inherit. We talk about eye color, height, last names—but not the unspoken fears, the reactions we mimic, the pain we never asked for but learned to live with.

I am unlearning the belief that everything I feel is mine to carry.

Some of it is ancestral. Some of it is cultural. Some of it is survival.

But I don’t want to just survive. I want to understand. To ask the hard questions. To sift through the emotions and decide which ones belong to me—and which ones I can finally lay down.

Maybe this is what healing looks like. Not always fixing. Not always knowing. But being brave enough to sit with the weight and say:

“This doesn’t belong to me.”

And then—letting it go.

If I’m carrying something I can’t name…
If my reactions catch me off guard…
If this pain runs deeper than what I remember living—
maybe it was never fully mine to begin with.

But maybe I’m the one who’s meant to face it now.

And that’s enough.

I’ll take my time.
With breath. With softness. With grace.

—Jujubee Divine Empress

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Journal Reflection Prompt: What emotional reaction or pattern do I carry that might not have originated with me? How can I begin to release it or rewrite the story around it?