family.

Disclaimer: My family might read this. In fact, knowing me, I will probably send this to a few people and let it spread from there. Others may share it with their own families, sparking conversations that some will find uncomfortable.

If you have ever felt obligated to meet toxic expectations or repeat harmful patterns because of your family, I am sorry. Sayings like “blood is thicker than water” or “we cannot choose our family” are often used to guilt us into tolerating behavior that is damaging to our well-being. For a long time, I bought into that guilt. It made me feel like I owed my loyalty to the very people who left me sick—physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

I have watched people give up their dreams, their identities, and even their sense of self just to appease their families. We are taught that family knows best, that their approval should be our compass. But what happens when the same people who are supposed to love and guide us become the source of our deepest wounds?

We excuse this behavior as generational or cultural—regardless, it is damaging, plain and simple. As someone who has experienced the fallout firsthand, I can say that I am not obligated to inherit, absorb, or perpetuate that pain.

I have spent years untangling myself from the web of dysfunction that shaped my childhood. Growing up, I often felt like an outsider in my own family. There were moments when I questioned my worth because of the way I was treated—like I was not enough, like my voice did not matter. At times, I wondered if my existence only added to the chaos around me. As an adult, I see things more clearly. I understand that the insecurity I felt was not a reflection of who I was, but a product of the environment I was born into. While I can acknowledge the hurt, I refuse to let it define me.

I have realized that family is not about blood—it is about the people who show up for you, who respect you, who nurture your growth. For me, that has often been my friends rather than my relatives. While some may see that as disloyal, I see it as survival.

To the family members who cling to decades of bitterness and refuse to take accountability: I release you. Your problems are not mine to solve. I cannot save everyone, but I can save myself. I refuse to carry the weight of those mistakes any longer.

There is a pervasive myth in our culture that we owe our parents and family unconditional loyalty simply because they provided for us. Statements like “I brought you into this world” or “I had to change your diapers” are used to justify harmful behavior. Let us be clear: I did not ask to be here. I did not ask to inherit your pain nor your responsibility. Children are not your emotional dumping grounds. They are not vessels for your unresolved trauma. If you find yourself perpetuating the same cycles of abuse, neglect, or dysfunction that broke you, it is time to take a hard look in the mirror. Healing is possible, but only if you are willing to do the work.

For a long time, I wrestled with the idea of cutting ties with certain family members. It felt like betrayal—after all, are we not supposed to forgive and forget? I have come to understand that forgiveness does not require proximity. I can love my family from a distance. This gives me the clarity and space I need to heal. It allows me to focus on becoming the person I want to be, not the person my family’s dysfunction tried to mold me into. Some may view this as selfish—I see it as self-preservation.

If you have walked away from your family to protect your peace, know that you are not alone. There is nothing wrong with prioritizing your mental and emotional health. Sometimes, breaking free is the only way to break the cycle. If you are a parent who has broken generational curses, thank you. Your courage and effort make the world a better place for the next generation.

To the parents or family members who have caused harm and refuse to take accountability: it is time to confront your role in the dysfunction. Apologies do not erase the past, but they can pave the way for healing. If you continue to avoid that work, do not be surprised when the people you have hurt choose to walk away.

I have learned that self-love is the key to breaking free from the chains of generational trauma. It is about setting boundaries, holding others accountable, and refusing to carry burdens that are not yours to bear. To anyone reading this who feels stuck in a cycle of family dysfunction, remember this: you have the power to choose a different path. You are not obligated to inherit their mistakes. You are allowed to create a life filled with love, joy, and freedom—on your own terms. The weight of the world is not yours to carry. Break the chain, and set yourself free.