For so long, I didn’t even have the words for it. The heaviness I carried in my body. The fears that weren’t mine. The silent compliance. The people-pleasing. The deep ache for freedom that I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t until I began doing the work, looking at my patterns, questioning the beliefs I inherited, and feeling the pain I had numbed, that I began to realize: I was living the echoes of generations before me.

Generational trauma isn’t always loud. Sometimes it whispers. It hides in the roles we think we’re supposed to play, in the silence we keep, in the worth we forget we hold.

As I began to unravel what was never mine to carry, I saw clearly: this wasn’t just about me. This was about my mother, and her mother, and the women who came before her...women who had no choice but to survive in systems that were never designed for their liberation.

I believe the world is waking up. And with that awakening comes pain. Old paradigms (systems of power, control, and suppression) are rising to the surface to be dismantled. The collective cries of women across generations are no longer silent. They are loud, visible, and impossible to ignore.

Movements like Black Lives Matter, MeToo, and the global demand for bodily autonomy have not only sparked justice, they’ve sparked remembrance. They’ve given us the language and the courage to say, “This ends with me.”

I’m deeply grateful for every woman who has spoken her truth, even when her voice trembled. Whether she faced racism, oppression, sexual violence, or being treated as less-than because she was a woman, her story matters. Every story cracked the armor. Every truth made it harder to deny.

This generation of women is saying no more. We are reclaiming our bodies, our purpose, our pleasure, and our right to be fully expressed. No longer do we wait for permission. We are writing new narratives...ones that include joy, power, abundance, and sovereignty.

Still, not everyone is ready. When change rises, fear comes with it. Half the world tries to pull us back into the familiar discomfort, while the other half dares to leap forward into the unknown. But that discomfort is the birthplace of a new world.

We are not here to repeat history. We are here to transmute it. We are not here to be silent. We are here to rise.