I do not understand how people gaze at their infant and see only future and not so much past.
People see their baby. Their face : a clean slate. A new start. False. The baby harbors a secret shared history – encoded on its heart, it’s body, in its DNA.
We can easily muse on the fact that certain talents and mannerisms are passed down but completely unwilling to admit that the poison can seep through too.
“You’ll be everything I’m not” as if love will will the ghosts away.
Love doesn’t cure all. It’s not enough.
The past, if unresolved, will always come stalking and it will have the final say. Things will hold until they won’t. The ghosts will jimmy the door, they will come in through cracks.
We have to do the work. Break the cycle. Pull our heads out of the damn sand. Heal for them and refuse to leave them with the enormous burden of inter-generational trauma.
Babies need more than love. They need protection. They need consistency. They need you to be healthy and surround yourself with healthy and safe people. They need you to heal yourself so you don’t repeat the cycle.