Generational trauma from "summary" of On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong
Generational trauma, then, is a kind of hell. A hell you can’t escape, no matter how far you travel, how much money you make, or who you become. It’s a ghost that follows you, whispering in your ear, reminding you that pain is a birthright, that suffering is a family heirloom passed down through the ages. It’s a wound that never fully heals, a scar that never fades, a burden that you carry with you wherever you go. In my own family, generational trauma took many forms. It was my grandmother’s silence, her eyes haunted by memories she refused to share. It was my mother’s rage, bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to explode at any moment. It was my own sense of emptiness, a feeling of not belonging, of being adrift in a world that didn’t want me. But it wasn’t just our individual pain that defined us. It was the pain of those who came before us, those whose names we didn’t know, whose stories we couldn’t hear. It was the pain of a history stained with blood and tears, a history of colonization, war, and displacement. It was the pain of a people who had been silenced, marginalized, and forgotten. And so, we carried that pain with us, like a heavy stone around our necks, weighing us down, holding us back. We tried to bury it, to ignore it, to pretend that it didn’t exist. But it was always there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to resurface when we least expected it. Generational trauma, then, is a cycle that repeats itself, a chain that binds us to the past, that shapes our present, that determines our future. It’s a legacy that we inherit, whether we want to or not, whether we acknowledge it or not. And until we confront it, until we name it, until we own it, we will never be free from its grip. So, we must break the cycle, we must refuse to pass on this legacy of pain and suffering to the next generation. We must heal ourselves, heal our families, heal our communities. We must look our ghosts in the eye and say, “No more. This ends here.” And maybe, just maybe, we can finally be free.
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