Recognizing Generational Patterns

, ,

Generational patterns are tricky. We are raised in a particular environment and take on certain habits, beliefs, and traits without even realizing it. So steeped are we in our own “normal” that we don’t always see how these patterns are quietly shaping the way we move through life.

 

But like the elephant in the room, at some point we realize they are there. And once something is seen, it is quite difficult to unsee.

 

Recently in my own life I saw very clearly a generational pattern at play. One of my struggles has always been saying NO. Just the thought of telling someone no used to send a deep wave of fear and anxiety through my chest! For many years I couldn’t muster up the courage to even try to tell someone no.

 

My fear was disappointing others. I was always so worried about the feelings and needs of everyone around me, but underneath that was a deeper wound I was not tending to within myself. Somewhere along the way, I learned that keeping others happy felt safer than feeling the pain of rejection, guilt, and disconnection that lived inside of me. Saying NO triggered painful parts in me to rise to the surface. This is often what discomfort really is. These unresolved parts within us asking to be seen, felt, and heard. And they will continue getting triggered until we begin tending to them with awareness and compassion.

 

On my own healing path, this was one of the first things I began to tackle. When we say yes when we really want to say no, it is a major source of leakage in our energy field. It depletes us in so many ways to the point that we feel drained, anxious, and stressed most of our days. We might find ourselves avoiding social situations or people because we fear the potential moments where we might once again find ourselves caught in this sticky web.

 

But these situations are opportunities. And these opportunities will continue showing up in your life until you begin addressing the underlying wounds that created this pattern in the first place.

 

But where does this all start from anyways?

 

This past month I was prepping dinner in the kitchen one evening. My daughter was sitting at the counter engrossed in her artwork. I had a pan cooking on the stove while simultaneously chopping vegetables, and I happened to ask my daughter if she would mind getting me a glass of water really quick.

 

Her response: “I do mind actually”, and she proceeded working on her art without moving from her chair.

 

My learned response wanted to rise up, “Well I need your help so you need to go get it for me right now.” But something in me paused. I became aware of the learned response, and it suddenly felt odd to force my needs onto her when she had the option to say no.

 

This is the learned pattern. This is probably how I learned it, and it is also most likely how it gets passed onto the next generation. And I was witnessing it attempting to move through me and onto my daughter in this very moment.

 

We always have the opportunity to change and shift and transform. If we have awareness, we have potential, because you can only change that which you are aware of.

 

In this moment for myself, I chose differently. I said, “Ok, no worries,” instead, and honored my daughter’s ability and right to say no. I supported her right to decide who, when, and how she wants to help others.

 

This is how we break generational patterns. We move through our days consciously, we set an intention to become open to seeing the patterns, and we choose differently.

 

The seed becomes the sprout,

The sprout becomes a tree.

Till tree drops its seed,

And life begins again.

 

Same tree, different place.

Different branches, same face.

 

But what we can change,

Is how we grow.

To begin to see,

What we didn’t know.

 

Transform the story,

Within the line.

And break the chains,

That trap and bind.

 

Different tree, same place.

Same branches, different face.

 

The tree grows strong,

Branches stretch towards light.

To transform anew,

And life begins again.

Love and blessings,

Ways To Stay Connected

If you enjoy this content and would like to read more, you can sign up for my monthly newsletter HERE.

I also share videos to support you on your healing journey over on YouTube on my channel, Wisdom by Candlelight. I would love to connect with you there as well, which you can find HERE.

/by

My Cup Runneth Over

, , ,

Over-giving can leave us exhausted and disconnected. In this personal story, I share a moment that stands out among many over the years when I struggled with giving too much of myself. Over time, I’ve learned that true connection and self-love begin with filling my own cup.

 

It was the beginning of my third year of nursing school. I had a core group of friends that I spent time with. They were social, outgoing, and liked to party. Honestly, they were everything I was not. I hated large gatherings, I didn’t enjoy drinking, and I didn’t like late nights. I always felt out of place around them, like I was trying to fit myself into a mold that wasn’t quite meant for me. It was always me reaching out to make plans, and that effort was rarely reciprocated. I imagine that if I had left that circle altogether, my phone might never have rung, and one day they would think to themselves, “I wonder what happened to that Cassie girl?”

 

But the fear of searching for new friends felt even scarier than the pain of spending time with people I didn’t fully connect with. Looking back, I recognize how deeply my sense of self-worth was eroded, and how I was looking for love in all the wrong places. I felt terribly lonely almost all the time. The thought “why does no one like me” dominated my inner world.

Me in my college years, before I understood what it meant to fill my own cup.

Physically, this took a toll on my body as well. I never linked the two back then, but now I understand the mind-body-spirit connection more clearly. The constant fatigue, the sensation of heaviness that felt like lead weights, the brain fog and forgetfulness were manifestations of everything I was holding onto. The pain, the trauma, the unprocessed energy, all living in my body with no awareness of how to recognize it, or how to let it go. My body was trying to send me signals.

 

My outside world reflected my inner world: disconnected. When pain is so great, we often retreat and avoid. Focusing on our external environment can be a form of disconnect, a way to avoid what we don’t want to see or feel inside. We engage in a battle to fix the world around us, believing that this is the way to find peace and happiness.

 

Even though I often felt unseen and disconnected, I kept reaching out to the same friends, hoping that with each failed attempt at connection, the next one would be different. When September arrived and I was turning 21, I decided to host a sit-down dinner party at my friends’ apartment. I wanted to set the stage for a special evening, a fancy, intimate dinner where we could dress up and connect in a way that went beyond our usual superficial hangouts. I even had a dress of my own design, sewn by my mom, for the occasion. I told my friends not to worry about the food. I would cook it, plan the menu, and buy all the ingredients.

 

I was going to make it really easy for them to love me. All they had to do was show up and spend time with me. Surely this would be enough? I would be enough…

 

Very soon, both my carefully laid plan and my heart were crushed. They decided they wanted it to be a “two for one” sort of party. It was the start of the school year, and they wanted a big celebration to ring it in. “You don’t mind, right Cassie?”

 

Of course not. How could I say no? At that time, I wasn’t capable of saying no. Saying no felt like giving them permission not to love me. Saying no created distance, and I feared it would make people leave and stop talking to me. And who would I have if I didn’t have them in my life? I would have no one. As alone as I felt, I feared that refusing them would leave me feeling even more isolated.

 

The party was nothing like I had imagined. Dinner was rushed, more of a grab-and-go affair. Once they were done, they went off to get ready for the next gathering. There was no bonding, no well wishes, no real connection.

 

Despite all this, I kept giving of myself, hoping that one day they would see me, recognize me, and care for me in return. I cleaned their house when I visited, took on the role of designated driver on nights out, cooked meals, and helped them pack and move when they relocated.

Recognizing When You’ve Hit an Emotional or Physical Wall

Writing about this still brings up a lot of emotions. I see so clearly a young woman who was simply searching for love. But I was going about it all the wrong way. There was an inner wound that I did not, and probably could not at the time, see or recognize.

 

Looking back, I do not blame my friends for how things unfolded. They were not responsible for my choices or the hurt I experienced. I was the one trying to fill the emptiness inside myself, and I was the one who believed that giving more of myself would earn the love and connection I craved. I imagine that if they reflected on that same moment, they would see it very differently, through the lens of their own wounds, growth, and journey of healing.

 

Past wounds and trauma leave a mark on us. We lose a part of our true essence, the connection to our Spirit Within, as life’s struggles begin to accumulate and weigh on us. In Shamanic terminology, this is called Soul Loss, which I explore in more detail in another blog post HERE. Soul loss leaves a void within us that we are always trying to fill. Often, we attempt to fill this void through external means, and this is where we become caught up. These patterns are not only our own. When we look within families, we can see similar wounds and stories repeating across generations. This is where I was caught in the story I share today. The same dynamic I experienced with my parents was repeating itself in my friendships. I was trying to repair the past, and while doing so, giving more of myself than I could fill or replenish. I was pouring from my cup into theirs.

 

But eventually, this becomes too much. We crash and hit a wall. Sometimes this happens through physical challenges. We get sick, and our body forces us to rest and retreat from everything we have been doing. Other times, we hit an emotional wall. The pain becomes too great to carry, and we finally seek help.

 

Seeking help can feel difficult because society often teaches us that needing support means we are broken or that something is wrong with us. This could not be further from the truth. Healing is an act of courage. It is an act of love, both for ourselves and for others. Trauma can teach us that love is earned through doing or giving. But true love begins with love of self. From that place, we can give in a heart-centered way and finally receive the love we were seeking all along, independent of others’ behavior, actions, or emotions.

Filling Your Own Cup

My over-giving tendencies did not shift overnight. And if I’m honest, this wasn’t anywhere near the moment that I recognized this unhealthy pattern in my life. It wasn’t until years later in my late 30s that I began to seek out a better way to live my life. And I didn’t recognize that this was a large source of energy drain in my life.

 

As you read this, perhaps parts of my story feel familiar. Maybe you, too, have found yourself over-giving, moving through the same patterns again and again, like tire tracks worn deep into the road. Maybe you are beginning to notice the exhaustion that comes from burning the candle at both ends. This noticing is not a failure. It is the call of your Spirit Within, an invitation to pause, to become aware, and to consider a new direction.

 

For me, the first step was seeking therapy, a safe space to explore my past experiences and release what had been held inside. That step eventually led me to study Shamanism as a path of connection, and shamanic healing as a way to reclaim and reintegrate my true self. Your path may look different, and that is okay. Healing is unique to each individual.

 

Healing does not begin by giving more. It begins by turning inward and listening to what your body and heart have been trying to tell you all along. Learning to fill your own cup first is not selfish. It is an act of courage and self-respect. It is the moment you choose to step out of familiar grooves and begin carving a new path for yourself.

Carving a New Path

Healing is a process of examining your story and gently reweaving it, repatterning the old ways of being. Just like tire tracks shaping a new road, these patterns often begin with a single moment: the decision to choose something new. Over time, as the same route is traveled again and again, the new path becomes easier to traverse. Creating a new route takes intention and patience. At first, it may feel unfamiliar or uncomfortable. But with time, the new path strengthens, and the old one slowly fades, becoming overgrown as if it were never there at all.

 

So have courage and perseverance. In time, the new path will feel steady beneath your feet. It will become familiar and easy to walk. One day, you may find that you no longer have to think about each step at all.

 

You will move forward guided not by old wounds or patterns, but by your own heart. Seeing each step clearly, navigating your life from a place of self-love rather than fear.

 

Walking this path with you,

Ways To Stay Connected:

Like what you read? I invite you to join my monthly newsletter which you can sign up for HERE.

 

If this story resonated with you and you’d like to continue exploring themes of healing, self-connection, and filling your own cup, you’re welcome to join my newsletter, follow me on TikTok or YouTube.

 

If you feel called to deeper support, you can also learn more about my healing services HERE.

/by