Had to Break the Family Silence Before It Broke Me Breaking Generational Silence

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The Noise

There’s a kind of silence that don’t bring peace — it presses down on your chest like an old quilt soaked in secrets.

I grew up wrapped in that kind of silence.The kind that lives in the corners of kitchens after arguments, the kind that hums under every “I’m fine,” the kind our mothers and aunties wore like perfume.

They didn’t mean to teach it to us.It was the only language survival allowed.

See, in my family, we learned early that softness could be dangerous — that tears didn’t fix bills, and vulnerability didn’t keep lights on. So we learned to swallow what we couldn’t say.We smiled through pain and called it strength.

But the truth? The silence passed down isn’t sacred if it’s suffocating.

“If this message spoke to your spirit, come sit with me on the mic. I’m unpacking ‘When the Universe Puts You on Mute’ in this week’s episode of the Soultribe Podcast — where we talk about learning to truly listen to the Universe. 

Tap in and hear what silence’s been trying to tell you.”

The Roots

I was raised by strong women — unshakable, hardworking, prayer-warrior women. My mother, my grandmothers, my aunties — each of them carved from faith and fire.

My mother battled epilepsy. She was loving, but fragile. There were days her body betrayed her, and I had to grow up fast. I learned to read her breathing like scripture. To anticipate, to protect, to survive.

But in that space, something was missing — a tether.

I watched The Cosby Show like it was a manual for the kind of love I wanted — that visible, safe, soft kind of love. The kind where people talked through things instead of tucking them away.

But we didn’t talk. We just… kept going. And I inherited that quiet like a family heirloom.

The Inheritance breaking generational silence

I took that silence with me when I got married young.I built a life where connection was there, but vulnerability was optional.

We could laugh, but we couldn’t cry.

We could plan, but not process.

We could pray, but not feel.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to — I just didn’t know how.

The women before me had built entire worlds while swallowing storms. I mistook that for wholeness, when really it was survival.

And survival is not the same as healing.

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The Shift: The Awakening

By the time I hit my late 30s, early 40s, something in me cracked open.

I got tired of pretending that silence was sacred. I realized the guardedness I inherited wasn’t rebellion — it was a love language carved by heartbreak and endurance.

Our mothers didn’t withhold affection because they didn’t care.They withheld because they were afraid — afraid to want too much, to feel too deeply, to lose too hard.

And baby, that realization freed me.

Because healing isn’t about blaming our elders — it’s about decoding their survival codes.

Once I understood that, I stopped resenting their quiet and started learning from it, breaking generational silence.

Root Work

I started talking to my grandmothers — not in memory, but at the altar.

I’d sit with a cup of tea, light a candle, and whisper,

“Grandma, what did you go through?”

And somehow, the answers would come — through a song on the radio, a stranger’s story, or that ache in my chest that let me know I’d found truth.

I learned to face silence with softness.

Instead of cursing my lineage, I started asking it questions. Lighting incense became my way of focusing the prayer.I didn’t need to fix the past — I just needed to listen to it.

Are you ready to go deeper, not just read about healing — but live it with me? Join our Patreon family, Soultribe. That’s where we circle up behind the scenes with bonus teachings, ancestral wisdom drops, and Tea Time replays that keep the spirit full. Let’s grow together — for real.”

Navigating Change

If you’ve felt that same silence pressing on you, here’s what helped me begin the unlearning:

1. Face Silence with Softness.

Don’t fight the hush. Ask it what it came to teach you.When the memories rise, breathe through them.Light incense or a candle to anchor yourself.

2. Forgive Without Forgetting.

Forgiveness isn’t about excusing what happened — it’s about freeing yourself from carrying it. You can remember and still release.

3. Build Daily Rituals.

• Play gospel or ancestral music while you meditate.

• Journal your dreams, your triggers, your tiny victories.

• Light candles and call your ancestors by name.

Healing the root is about honoring the soil — the good, the rough, and the buried.

4. Set New Family Standards.

No more lonely mothers. No more daughters mistaking silence for peace. No more pain dressed up as love.

The pattern stops here. With us.

The Tool

Lineage work gets heavy sometimes. That’s when I lean on my tools — reminders of my commitment, not replacements for it.

When the silence feels thick and the memories get loud, I reach for ways to learn Ancestral Practices from beadsandpotions.com.

It includes an Ancestor Candle for light, Quiet Storm bath for dreaming, and Ancestral Digital Affirmation Cards for presence. These aren’t “magic” — they’re bridges. Each item whispers, “You are not alone. You come from love.”

The Remembering

Breaking silence isn’t rebellion — it’s remembrance.

It’s whispering to your grandmama’s spirit,

“We heard you. We understand now.”

When you speak, you free the ones who had to hold their tongues to survive.And in that freedom, the next generation learns to breathe easier.

We’re not just healing ourselves, Soultribe.We’re rewriting the story — with love, with voice, with grace.

Peace and love, y’all. — Aunty Charmaine 🌿