Breaking the Cycle: My Journey from Trauma to Healing

I have shared in previous blogs that I grew up in a traumatic environment—one that led to managing chronic trauma symptoms throughout my adult life. I want to go a bit deeper into some of the most profound wounds, particularly those connected to my father. My sisters, my mom, and I were all survivors of domestic violence.

Later in life, I learned that my father had been severely abused by his own parents. That generational cycle carried into my childhood, where he was often overtaken by power, control, and rage. My parents married young after meeting in college. They dropped out when my mom became pregnant with me. My sister was born 18 months later, and my youngest sister arrived six years after me.

Throughout my mom’s pregnancies, both of my parents struggled with addiction—alcohol for both, drugs for my mom, and gambling for my dad. My mom also battled bipolar disorder, at a time when mental health treatments and medications were still emerging. Because of my dad’s unstable work, we moved constantly—new cities, new schools almost every year. That level of disruption deeply impacted my social and academic development.

Before my youngest sister was born, my parents already had their share of marital issues, largely fueled by addiction. But things escalated significantly when I was around seven years old.

The abuse began as emotional and psychological. I was a strong-willed, spirited oldest child—qualities that did not sit well with my father’s need for control. He forced my mom to stop working and isolated her. As for me, he once told my grandmother he was going to “break me like a horse.”

That control soon turned physical. Slapping became common if we were seen as “disrespectful.” Emotional abuse was constant. Over time, the physical violence intensified. I endured regular beatings with a belt—labeled as “discipline”—while my mom suffered severe physical assaults that often resulted in police intervention.

This went on until I was ten years old. I finally urged my mom to leave because I could no longer watch her endure the abuse. One night, she did. I never saw her in person again.

Shortly after, my dad's parents stepped in to take us in. Child Protective Services became heavily involved to ensure our safety. Then, at eleven years old, I lost my mom to a brain aneurysm.

Life did not suddenly get easier. We were deeply traumatized children navigating ongoing challenges well into adulthood.

We lived in a constant state of fight-or-flight. It felt like internal sirens were always blaring. We carried abandonment wounds, trust issues, imposter syndrome, anxiety, depression, low self-esteem, social anxiety, anger—and so much more that we would have to face later in life.

Healing is not linear. There are highs and lows, breakthroughs and setbacks. New layers reveal themselves over time—areas that still need attention, compassion, and care.

As I moved deeper into my healing journey, I read The Body Keeps the Score by Dr. Bessel van der Kolk. It helped me understand how trauma reshapes both the body and the brain, often living on as physical tension or emotional numbness. It reinforced something I had already begun to feel—healing requires more than just talking. It requires reconnecting with the body.

For me, like many others with deeply wounded inner children, trauma led to dissociation and stored emotional pain within the nervous system. That energy has to be released. This is where somatic healing became life-changing.

Traditional talk therapy did not work for me. Medication numbed my symptoms but did not heal them. Vices—like drinking—only delayed facing the pain.

My faith in God became a turning point. It helped me release anger, resentment, and unforgiveness—breaking patterns that had been passed down for generations.

Then I found yoga. For the first time, I experienced what it felt like to be present in my body. From there, I explored transcendental and mindfulness meditations, which helped quiet my mind and reconnect me to my center.

Yoga teacher training sparked a deeper spiritual awakening and eventually led me to Conscious Connected Breathwork (CCB). This practice has been the most powerful tool in my healing journey.

Through breathwork, I have been able to access my subconscious and release years of suppressed emotion, deep trauma, and physical tension stored in my hips, back, and shoulders. I am now 20 sessions into this work, and my breath has been the most powerful medicine I have experienced.

While breathwork is not defined as a religious practice, I do believe that God has given us everything we need to heal—right within ourselves.

A quick note on “spiritual awakening”: to me, it is a profound shift in consciousness. It is moving beyond ego-driven patterns and into a deeper, more authentic version of yourself. It involves shedding old beliefs, strengthening intuition, deepening empathy, and choosing to live with intention and purpose.

Through breathwork, I have discovered that my inner wisdom can be my greatest guide. In many ways, I have become my own therapist during these sessions. I have received powerful insights about my father—that he was human, that abused people abuse people, and that his greatest consequence was never knowing his grandchildren or having a relationship with "his girls."

That understanding allowed me to forgive him at a deep, subconscious level and release years of resentment.

Healing is not about arriving at a final destination. There is not one moment where everything is “fixed.” It is an ongoing journey—a continuous unfolding.

We are always evolving, always learning, always becoming.

I encourage you to lean into your own path of self-discovery… and enjoy the journey along the way!