Third-Generation Girl

“You know…I was scared to have you.” my mom says to me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I didn’t want you to come out like me.”

My parents, children of Mexican immigrants, had me at a very young age. They were both 19

and 20 with a 5-year-old already. What do kids really know about taking care of other kids?

Somehow, they managed.

I can say I’m still alive.

Although, there is mental health issues I have struggled with since I can remember. Anxiety

being something that seems to run in my family, in particular with the women.

I remember looking up “is anxiety hereditary?” on Google when I was 15 because it was

progressively getting worse and my mom “didn’t believe in therapy” and sure enough it can be.

Anxiety can have “both hereditary and environmental factors.” And I felt both. As I eventually

approached my mom about it, she had refused to listen any further. Leading me to believe she

was just in denial. Choosing to not believe what I think she needed to talk about. Maybe she

really thought she was okay. Maybe it was a survival tactic.

Overprotection stems from anxiety. The worry of “Uno nunca sabe…” was my mom’s response

when I would ask her why I couldn’t go over a cousin’s or friend’s house, why I couldn’t go out

to the movies on a Friday night, why I couldn’t go to a concert to see one of my favorite bands

play, etc. For the longest time, I hated her way of thinking, I didn’t understand it. She never

explained it to me. She never elaborated. I thought she was crazy, like nothing can go wrong.

What do you mean, “one never knows?”

It wasn’t until I was 18 and vowed to leave her house and live on my own, when I started to

understand. The time apart, having actual freedom for once, and putting myself through therapy

gave me new perspectives on everything. I was a product of generations of trauma and mental

and emotional neglect. Not one person before me had the time to reflect on their own lives or the

ones before them.

My grandparents were on survival-mode pretty much since birth. Migrating to the U.S., seeking

a better life, working, having children, only to continue to work to support themselves and their

family. Eventually so busy working and trying to put food on the table, they didn’t have much

time for their growing children. Their teenage years came around to where they sought attention,

validation, and love in their chosen families. This would eventually result in trauma itself. My

mother became a mother at the age of 14. Something I still can’t fathom to this day. Something I

was sheltered from becoming due to her overprotection. I understand now.

With this newfound lens on life, I know I must take care of myself first before I can take care of

anyone else. I feel as if I’m not alone in my way of thinking, most of my friends and my

generation for that matter, are on the same boat. Majority of us are in therapy, meditate, choose

to still not have children, and really try to put in the effort be present with our feelings and

thoughts.

We are trying to break the cycle of generational trauma.

If you or anyone you know needs to talk to someone, call the California Warm Peer Line at 855-

845-7415. It’s a 24/7 peer-run non-emergency resource anyone in California can use.

Sweet Comfort: Pan Dulce and My Family