Manifest Monthly: Rewriting Ancestral Trauma Loops

P.S. There’s a meditation, a PLAYLIST, news, and more at the end of this post.

I learn the term “legacy burden” from my therapist in a session where we talk about my propensity to believe that I deserve to suffer for good things. She asks: “Where do you think this belief came from?” And my mind searches. Not only my memory, but the stories and truths inherent in my ancestral line.

It dawns on me that I don’t think I ever originally thought that I deserve to suffer in order to have access to good things like ease, stability, joy, etc. This belief came from someone before me and was taught to me, both consciously and unconsciously. In learning that, in spite of exhaustion, I must work to “make something of myself” or that to rest meant that you’re lazy.

These beliefs don’t come from a bad place. They come from the realities my ancestors and parents faced living not only as Black people in the United States, but Black people without access to capital and power. When my therapist asks me about suffering, I think about my grandmother, who never got to tell me her story, but who I knew suffered a great deal. Who struggled to find work after a divorce, who struggled to make a life for herself and her children, who struggled to raise me during the first four years of my life.

My grandmother in all her joy.

Yet, my grandmother’s joy was contagious. Most remember her as the most well-dressed person they ever met. Many knew her to be so meticulous that she ironed t-shirts. My grandmother packed lunches for her kids (my mother, my aunt, and uncles) and took them to the park while they played. When they were hungry, they ate together, under the clear skies of Boston. There was deep pride of being a caretaker that my grandmother carried, even amid her struggling. Stories like these, ones woven in and between suffering and joy, permeate my ancestral line.

This is my history, yet it doesn’t mean that I have to carry everything I learned to carry, within me. When I’ve found myself unraveling unsettling truths that I’ve always held, that do not serve me, I’ve started asking myself questions like:

Is this my thought or someone else’s?

Is this my feeling or someone else’s?

Can I give this thought or feeling back?

And this type of curiosity reminds me that I am of my ancestors, yet I also belong to myself. I can let go of some learned beliefs, while holding onto others. I can work through my own struggles of being alive, just like the ones who came before me. I can allow myself to learn from these. I can allow new ways of believing to grow within me. I can hope that those who come after me, know their ability to choose what to hold. We can all carry something else.

Meditation

What are the things that you carry that you want to keep or hold on to? Give yourself 20-30 mins to spend time with your past and present ancestral line (whatever this means to you). This could mean looking at pictures of family members, dear friends who are family, and beyond. Choose one person and write down the beliefs you’ve learned from them, even the ones they never told you directly. From this list, circle the ones you’d like to hold onto, leaving behind the ones you don’t want to carry anymore. Take the beliefs you’ve circled and write them on another piece of paper. Hang this newly created list in a place where you can see it as a reminder that our ways of being take time to understand. Give yourself the time and space to let these beliefs guide you.

A Meditation Playlist

I hope you enjoy!

News & Upcoming Events

Mark your calendars for Sundress Publications’ Poetry Retreat happening in June! I hope to see you there virtually.

My essay “Notes on Conception” was published in Torch Magazine. As a content warning this essay mentions fertility and miscarriage.

I’ll be at AWP next month! Learn more about that and some other writers (from Emerson) who’ll also be there.

Beautiful Work in the World

WATER MAY STILL FLOW ON MARS by Dasia Moore

The Book of Even More Delights by Ross Gay [especially great for our tumultuous times]

Witnessing Humanity: The Art of John Wilson at the MFA in Boston

Thank you for reading.

Feel free to share these opportunities with a friend, or encourage a fellow creative to subscribe. Until then connect with me via Bluesky, Instagram, Email, and/or leave a comment below!

P.S. If you’re wondering if I moved Manifest Monthly to Substack, the answer is “yes!” Learn more in my first Substack post!