Somewhere In between

On being first-gen, building the bridge, losing yourself, and finding your way back

The Unspoken Contract

If you're first-generation America, this may resonate.

There's an inherited contract you signed that was never written down, never openly discussed, and never negotiated. 

Like, be the model for your siblings. Don't mess up. Don't complain. Remember the sacrifice -  “we gave up everything so you could have this life.”

And you know what? You can't even be mad about it, because the sacrifice was real.

Your parents did leave everything, and they did have to start over. So you keep your mouth shut and keep it moving.

The child who became the parent

Some of the things we don’t acknowledge or talk about is when a family immigrates, the child  becoming the parent.

You're 10, 12, 15 years old, sitting in appointments, translating documents, explaining American systems to adults who are supposed to be taking care of you. You're navigating school while also navigating your parents' discomfort with a country that doesn't make sense to them. And while you're doing all that, nobody is asking how YOU'RE doing. Nobody acknowledges that you lost something too. You left friends, left your family and the place that made sense to you. You left home. But your thoughts and feelings get swallowed up in the story of "we did this for you."

Perform peace, bury the loss

So you learn to perform, because anything else feels ungrateful or like a betrayal.

You smile when relatives ask how you like America. You say "it's great" when teachers ask if you're adjusting. You don't talk about the loneliness, the confusion, the way you feel like you're living someone else's dream.

Instead, you internalize everything. You can't mess up because your parents gave up so much. You can't struggle because that would mean their sacrifice was wasted and you can't fall apart because you're the one holding everyone else together.

A quiet urban street symbolizing the journey of first-generation individuals

Too American, not American enough

And then comes the other side of it.

You spend years learning how to survive here. You adapt - You pick up the language, the culture, the way things work and you figure out how to move through spaces your parents can't or won’t access.

And then one day, you express an opinion. You push back on something. You think for yourself.

And suddenly you're "too Americanized."

You hear that “you've forgotten where you came from. You think you're better than everyone. You've lost your culture.”

The same adaptation that was required of you - the thing that allowed you to be the bridge - is now held against you. And the kicker is, you were never given the tools to manage both, honoring the sacrifice of your culture, and being American enough to succeed. You were just expected to figure it out.

Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

A journal symbolizing personal storytelling and identity exploration

The identity that got lost

So who are you now?

You’re not the Caribbean - or whatever your cultural background - child you might have been if you'd stayed, and not the fully American kid who got to grow up here without this weight. You're somewhere in between.

And that duality isn't a weakness. It's the natural result of being asked to be everything for everyone while having no space to just be yourself.

What I want you to know

If this is your story, or something close to it, I want you to know a few things:

Your loss was real, even if nobody acknowledged it. You lost something when you left and you're allowed to grieve that.

The weight wasn't yours to carry. You were a child. The responsibility of saving the family, bridging the gap, making the sacrifice worth it, was too much to put on you, and it wasn't fair, even if it was done with love.

The work now

Healing from this isn't about rejecting your family or your culture. It's about separating what's yours from what was placed on you, and building an identity that can include where you came from and where you are now.

If you're a first-gen immigrant carrying weight that was never yours to hold, there are people who understand. Who've walked this path and who can sit with you while you figure out who you actually are underneath all the expectations.

You've spent a long time being the bridge for everyone else.

Maybe it's time to build something for yourself.

Achieving Financial Stability for Mental Wellness: A Journey in Financial Stress Management

Money and mental wellness are tangled up for so many of us. I know what it's like to carry financial stress while trying to keep your mind right - it's exhausting. It feels like you're constantly choosing between survival and peace. But here's the thing: managing your financial stress isn't just about the numbers. It's about getting your power back, about healing the relationship you have with money itself.

So let's get into it: how do you start building a foundation where your money and your peace of mind aren't at war?

Understanding Financial Stress Management: More Than Just Budgeting

When we hear financial stress management, most of us think budgets and bills. But that's surface level. It's really about your relationship with money - the stories you're carrying about it, how it makes you feel, whether you're controlling it or it's controlling you.

And here's what I've learned: approaching your finances with any kind of curiosity or gentleness changes everything. You start to see money differently when you're not in survival mode about it. You notice the fear underneath, the scarcity messages you picked up somewhere. You give yourself permission to mess up and keep going. You ask for help when you need it. That's when money becomes a tool instead of a threat.

Creating a calm space for financial reflection

Why is it important to be financially stable?

Why does financial stability matter? Because it changes everything about how you move through the world. When you're not drowning in money stress, you can actually breathe. You can think about something other than survival. You can make choices based on what you actually want, not just what keeps the lights on.

Financial stress does something specific to your nervous system. It keeps you in constant fight-or-flight. Your mind can't rest because there's always that low-level panic underneath everything. So stability - real stability - isn't just about having money. It's about getting your body and mind back.

When your finances aren't a crisis, something shifts. You start to trust yourself again. You prove to yourself that you can handle hard things. You get some breathing room to think about your actual life instead of just surviving it. That's the mental health piece people don't always talk about - financial stability isn't separate from your peace of mind. It's foundational to it.

Planning financial goals to reduce stress

Practical Steps to Build Your Financial Wellness

So, How Do You Actually Start?

Get Clear on Your Current Situation

You can't trust yourself with money if you won't look at it. I know that sounds harsh, but avoidance is what keeps you stuck in the patterns that don't serve you, whether you inherited them or picked them up along the way. So start there: list your income, expenses, debts, savings. A notebook, a spreadsheet, whatever. Just honest. This isn't about judgment, it's about knowing what's actually true so you can make real decisions from here.

Create a Budget That Reflects Your Life

Most budgets feel like punishment because they're built on restriction and fear. But a real budget is just you saying: here's what I need to survive, here's what I need to actually live, and here's what's left. Essentials first - housing, food, health. Then the things that keep you human - joy, rest, whatever that looks like for you. And it changes as you change. Flexibility isn't weakness; it's you staying in control instead of repeating the same old patterns.

Build an Emergency Fund, Even a Small One

$500. $1,000. Whatever you can manage. This is about proving to yourself that you can do hard things. That you can protect yourself. Automate it if you can so you're not white-knuckling it every month. Every dollar is evidence that you're breaking the cycle and taking your life back.

Break Down Your Debt

Debt is real and it's heavy. But it loses power when you stop looking at it as one massive thing and start seeing it as pieces you can actually move. Smallest to largest, or whatever strategy makes sense for your situation. And if you need help? Get it. That's not failure; that's wisdom.

Get People Around You Who Actually Get It

You can't do this alone. You need people who understand your specific reality, not generic money advice, not judgment, not people repeating the same patterns that don't serve. Real community. Real therapy if you can access it. Real talk with people who've actually looked at their own stuff and decided to do it differently.

Remember, financial wellness is a marathon, not a sprint. Each step forward is a victory.

The Emotional Side of Money: Healing the Relationship

Money touches everything emotional in us. It can bring up fear, shame, guilt, anger - all these feelings that sit under the surface. And if you're a Black Caribbean woman, there's often this added layer: the expectation that you handle it, you stay strong, you don't burden anyone with the weight of it. So money struggles feel twice as heavy because you're carrying them alone.

Here's what matters: your feelings about money are real and they make sense. They didn't come from nowhere. But they also don't have to run your future. You can feel all of it - the fear, the shame, whatever, and still decide to do something different.

That's where real healing comes in. Not just managing money better, but actually looking at where these feelings came from and deciding: is this mine to carry, or did I inherit it? And then choosing to rewrite that story for yourself. That might look like therapy, like community, like time alone figuring out what you actually believe about money versus what you were taught to believe.

Embracing Your Journey: You Are Not Alone

This isn't easy work. You're not just learning to budget differently, you're undoing patterns that got handed down, unlearning messages about what you should sacrifice, reclaiming trust in yourself. That's heavy. And you can't do it alone, even though you've probably been trying to.

Here's the truth: you're not the first person to look at their money and decide it could be different. You're not the first to realize that the way you were taught to handle it doesn't work for you. And you won't be the last. There are people who get it - who understand your specific reality, your culture, the pressure you carry. That community exists. Find it.

Progress won't look clean. Your worth has nothing to do with your bank account. Healing looks different for everyone because everyone's carrying something different. The only version that matters is yours.

You already know what you need. Start there.

If you're ready to do this work, reach out. Find a therapist who actually gets your culture, your story, your specific reality. Find community. Don't do this alone.

Financial stability is possible. So is peace. And you deserve both.

Thank you for walking this path with me today. May your steps be gentle, your heart be brave, and your spirit be free.

Understanding the Impact of Generational Trauma

Have you ever felt like you’re carrying a weight that isn’t entirely yours? Like there’s a story woven into your very being, passed down through whispers, silences, and unspoken pain? That’s the quiet power of generational trauma. It’s a legacy that can shape how we see ourselves, how we trust, and how we heal. But here’s the gentle truth - healing is possible, and it starts with understanding.

The Journey of Generational Trauma Healing

Healing from generational trauma is not a straight path. It’s more like walking through a forest where the trees are memories, some dark and heavy, others bright with hope. When we talk about healing, we’re talking about more than just feeling better for a moment, we're talking about learning to walk that forest without it destroying you, and maybe, eventually, finding your way to the light parts more often.

You might wonder, how do I even begin? Here are some steps that can help:

• Acknowledge the pain: It’s okay to admit that the past has left marks. This is the first step to freeing yourself.

• Seek safe spaces: Whether it’s therapy, a trusted friend, or a community circle, find places where you can be seen and heard without judgment.

• Practice self-compassion: Be gentle with yourself. Healing is a process, not a race.

• Learn your family history: Sometimes, understanding the stories behind the pain changes how you carry it.

• Use creative outlets: Writing, art, or movement can help express what words cannot.

  
  

Remember, healing is not about forgetting or erasing the past. It’s about making peace with it so you can live fully in the present.

A peaceful forest path symbolizing the journey of healing

What is considered generational trauma?

Generational trauma refers to the emotional and psychological wounds passed down from one generation to the next. It’s like an invisible thread connecting the struggles of those before you, to your own experiences. This trauma can come from many sources - systemic racism, displacement, violence, poverty, or loss. It’s not just about what happened directly to your family, but how those experiences shaped their behaviors, beliefs, and coping mechanisms.

For example, a grandmother who lived through discrimination might have developed a deep mistrust of others. That mistrust can subtly influence how her children and grandchildren relate to the world. Or a family that faced economic hardship might pass down anxiety about money, even if the current generation is financially stable.

Understanding this helps us see that some of our fears, doubts, or patterns are not personal failings. They are echoes of past pain, waiting to be heard and healed.

How does generational trauma affect us today?

The impact of generational trauma can show up in many ways. Sometimes it’s clear, like anxiety or depression. Other times, it’s more subtle - a feeling of not belonging, difficulty trusting others, or a constant need to be strong. These effects can influence relationships, self-esteem, and even physical health.

You might notice:

• Hypervigilance: Always being on alert, expecting danger or disappointment.

• Difficulty naming feelings: Struggling to understand or express emotions.

• Guilt about self-care: Feeling selfish for choosing your own needs.

• Loss of identity: Not knowing who you truly are beneath the roles you play.

  
  

These are not signs of weakness. They are signals from your body and mind trying to protect you, based on what they learned from your family’s history.

Practical steps to begin healing

Healing from generational trauma is deeply personal, but here are some practical ways to start:

Find safe people. Surround yourself with people who respect your journey.

Get help. Find a therapist who gets your culture, your faith, your story.

Listen to your body. Your body's been holding things your mind forgot. Somatic work, grounding, movement. Whatever helps you reconnect and let some of it go.

Tell your story. Write it down. Say it out loud. Share it with women who get it. Don't make it pretty. Just make it true.

Set boundaries. Your energy is sacred. Stop saying yes when you mean no. Stop making yourself smaller so others stay comfortable.

Hold onto something bigger. Faith, community, the strength of the women before you. Whatever keeps you grounded. You're not just healing yourself. You're breaking the cycle.

Some days you'll feel like you're moving backward, and honestly, that's part of it. The point isn't perfection. It's showing up differently, even if that just looks like taking a breath before you fix everything.

Embracing your authentic self through healing

As you walk this path, you might find yourself shedding layers of expectation and pain. You begin to see the woman you truly are - resilient, worthy, and whole. Healing allows you to reconnect with your core self and build trust in your own voice.

It’s okay to feel vulnerable. It’s okay to ask for help. You don’t have to carry this weight alone. By choosing healing, you’re not just changing your life, you’re transforming the legacy for the generations to come.

If you want to learn more about how to navigate this journey, consider exploring resources that specialize in generational trauma. They offer compassionate guidance tailored to your unique story.

You are not alone. Your story matters. And healing is within reach.