by Rev. Rune Marie Nielsen
Everyone inherits beliefs, values, and behaviors from their relatives. These ways of thinking can be profound influences or small quirks, positive or negative. The patterns may be easily noticeable, such as an appreciation for the arts. Alternatively, they could be viewpoints lurking beneath the surface, such as a pessimistic outlook on romantic relationships. However, when traumatic events or experiences happen to one generation, they have the potential to significantly impact the mental health of future generations. A study published by the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health defines intergenerational trauma as “trauma, violence, and maltreatment, in which symptoms or experiences of an ancestor’s trauma repeat or otherwise manifest in subsequent generations.”
Due to complex emotions surrounding tragic events, families often try to cope with what happened, albeit not always in healthy ways. They may even try to hide the tragedy entirely while still feeling the emotional effects of the secret. Family dynamics expert Monica McGoldrick writes in The Genogram Journey:
“Traumatic family experiences can create myths and superstitions about the danger of the outside world that flow down the generations, influencing descendants who have no conscious awareness of the origins of the beliefs. Nor do they understand how family stories develop around the facts to reassure, to explain, or to limit the pain of certain family experiences. Family stories and myths are worth analyzing for the signals they contain about the family’s covert values and rules.”
Also known simply as generational trauma, this condition affects descendants both psychologically and biologically. Clergy and laity alike should learn about generational trauma to better support their communities. If you look into stories about your own family lineage, you may find that some of your beliefs or habits actually originated with ancestors you’ve never met.
I grew up in a family atmosphere that was extremely anxious and fearful. The prevailing attitude was that life is full of bad experiences, and that there was always another unknown, terrible problem bound to happen soon. I have since learned that this prevailing belief stems from a variety of influences, which include historic, community-wide disasters as well as personal issues passed along through generations.
For my family, communal trauma can be seen in the history of places where my ancestors resided. One such location is the island of Fanø in southwest Denmark. Today, Fanø is known as a lovely tourist attraction with serene waters, uniquely tall sand dunes, and expansive lush fields. However, the island’s history is full of tragedy. Legend states that the storms around the island were so fierce that even the Norse god Odin’s ship was aggressively shoved ashore by the violent waves and wind. Local folklore claims that Fanø will eventually be overcome by the waves of a future storm that will make the entire island disappear. Essentially, residents once believed the island would experience its own mini Ragnarok, or Norse end of the world. In the 1700s, Fanø residents even made plans to purchase land on Jutland, Denmark’s primary peninsula, hoping to move all Fanø residents there in case of such an emergency (the plans eventually fell through).
The Fanøese fears were not unfounded. For hundreds of years, Fanø residents saw the remains of ships wrecked at sea–debris washing up on shore as a reminder of disasters in their own waters. Fanø had been settled by Frisians until the black plague wiped out the original inhabitants. Danes hoping to escape the black plague moved to Fanø in the early 1300s, only for the plague to continue ravaging their community for two more decades. Afterward, almost every generation endured some combination of fatal epidemics, violent piracy, unexpected famine, and deadly storms. In fact, multiple times in its history from 1300 through 1900, Fanø lost as much as half its total population due to these catastrophes. Its villages would likely have dwindled if not for new residents moving in from other locales in the region.
I can already see why my ancestors started to view the future as a series of terrible things yet to happen. However, this does not mean that having Fanøese ancestors automatically makes you a fearful and anxious person. Some Fanøese families through generations viewed these devastating occurrences with an attitude of determined resilience instead of unrelenting despair. Furthermore, Fanø certainly wasn’t the only place to ever experience communal tragedy. My ancestors who lived in southern Denmark during the 1700s and 1800s faced constant threat of invasion from Germany, as border disputes were common. Some of my ancestors were drafted to fight against Germany in the War of 1864. The more recent events of World War II may have reignited similar apprehension in my grandparents’ and parents’ generations. Indeed, no homeland is without its own tragedies.
As I looked into my family history, I saw a pattern of individuals who seemed to be fleeing something. While moving from place to place is hardly abnormal, these individuals took off suddenly for other countries for extended periods of time. They set out for locations from Russia to Africa. In my own life, I too felt an urgency to escape my country of origin. I left the United States for Hong Kong after earning my undergraduate degree. Living overseas gave me a profound sense of freedom that I had not felt in the US. After my husband and I returned to the US, I was hesitant when my husband suggested we purchase a house. I worried that some unknown disaster would happen that would make us need to leave the area forever. At the time, I didn’t know why I felt that way. I could sense it was an attitude my parents raised me to have, but I didn’t know where that seemingly unfounded perception came from until I looked at my family history.
I discovered that my ancestors experienced sudden losses in the family due to a wide variety of illnesses and accidents. I counted over 20 sudden deaths of adolescents and adults over the course of a hundred years on my father’s side alone. Records described the deaths as sudden, unexpected, or shocking. Another recurring pattern was family schisms among close relatives who parted ways and never reconciled. In my family, emotional distress from historical calamities and personal loss was not often handled in healthy ways. For some of my ancestors, their unaddressed trauma led to a warped and cynical perspective that still lingers among my relatives to this day. The abuse I experienced as a child was an echo from generations before me who became scapegoats for their parents’ own fears and anxieties.
Science journalist Donna Jackson Nakazawa writes in Childhood Disrupted that stress can be transmitted from parent to child psychologically and biologically. Empathetic stress is the transfer of stress through observation. Nakazawa cites a study in which infants were returned to their mothers after their mothers experienced a stressful event. Unlike infants whose mothers had not been subject to a tense situation, these infants’ “heart rates went up…within moments of being reunited with their stressed out moms.” She concludes that “in this way, an infant may silently absorb her parents’ negative emotions into her own tiny body.”
Children can also inherit anxiety epigenetically through biological changes in their parents before conception. Nakazawa describes a study in which “[s]tressed female rats showed an increased expression of a particular protein that prompted cells to release more hormones related to stress and anxiety.” Therefore, “this stress hormone already existed in large concentrations in the eggs of these previously stressed females” and their offspring displayed anxious behavior. Nakazawa summarizes the finding: “mom’s eggs were transmitting mom’s trauma to her babies before they were born.” Similarly, independent studies have reported that a distraught father can also transmit stress-induced hormones through his sperm.
However, generational trauma doesn’t have to persist. It can be stopped. Nakazawa is clear that parents who addressed their trauma, those who “had come to terms with their early negative experiences,” showed remarkable tenderness with their children. A study reported that they “were better able to respond to their newborn infants’ cries and comfort them.” Fortunately, there is still hope for parents who first realize their generational trauma further into parenthood. Alongside therapy for individuals, family counseling is a great place to start, giving each parent and child a voice. It can be hard for parents to admit that they need help from outside the family. Counseling is not a sign of weakness; on the contrary, it shows that you care about yourself and your family enough to make things right.
We can end the cycle of pain we’ve inherited if we address our destructive actions and harmful beliefs through therapy and spiritual support. Fortunately, helpful outlooks and behaviors can also be transmitted through generations. Those of us who come from a lineage of trauma can create new positive experiences and attitudes that will be passed down to grateful new generations.
References:
- Childhood Disrupted: How Your Biography Becomes Your Biology, and How You Can Heal by Donna Jackson Nakazawa, published by Simon and Schuster, 2015
- Fanøs Historie by N.M. Kromann, 1933
- The Genogram Journey: Reconnecting with Your Family by Monica McGoldrick (Second Edition), published by W.W. Norton and Company, 2011
- “Perspective to Practice: Theoretical Frameworks Explaining Intergenerational Trauma, Violence, and Maltreatment and Implications for the Therapeutic Response,” Crysta Bowe et al., Int J Environ Res Public Health. 2025 Feb 21;22(3):321. doi: 10.3390/ijerph22030321https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC11942635/
Rev. Rune Marie Nielsen is a pastor, writer, and illustrator who seeks to show ‘a glimpse of divine eternity’ in her work. Educated in Hong Kong, Rune finds creativity in both the complex and simple aspects of life, from meditation and theology to the bowl of noodles she ate for lunch. To view Pastor Rune’s artwork, visit runepainter.com.
