It was during my own healing journey, and while writing my first book, Fibromyalgia: Chronic Pain to Limitless Living, that I began to truly understand the impact of unintentional generational trauma.
At the time, I was living with physical pain so intense that I simply wanted it to stop. I was not searching for some huge spiritual awakening or a complete transformation of my life. I was looking for relief from chronic pain without spending the rest of my life relying on medication, nerve suppressants or pain relief.
But as I began to explore practices that helped me feel calmer, safer and more connected to myself, something unexpected started to happen.
My pain began to ease.
The more I opened up to memories, emotions and experiences that had been sitting beneath my conscious awareness, the more I began to understand how deeply our past can shape our present. I remembered things I had forgotten. I noticed patterns. I began to see that, although my family had always operated from love, their own childhood hurts and unresolved experiences had influenced the way emotional stress played out in my life.
This is what I mean when I talk about unintentional generational trauma.
It is not about blaming our parents or grandparents. It is about recognising that people can love us deeply while still passing down beliefs, fears, expectations and emotional patterns that they may never have had the opportunity to heal themselves.
If this resonates, it connects closely to what I shared in the emotional baggage I didn't know I was carrying.
Generational trauma can show up in many ways.
It may look like pressure to achieve, people-pleasing, fear of disappointing others, perfectionism, anxiety, overworking, emotional shutdown, difficulty resting or feeling responsible for everyone else's well-being.
Often, these patterns began long before us.
A parent may have learned that love is earned through achievement. A grandparent may have learned to survive by staying busy, quiet or strong. Someone may have grown up believing that their needs were too much, that emotions were unsafe to express, or that success was the only way to feel worthy.
These beliefs can be passed down without anyone intending harm.
They can become the invisible stories we carry in our nervous systems, our relationships, and sometimes even in the way we experience our bodies.
Research into the epigenetics of trauma suggests that stress and traumatic experience can influence gene expression in ways that may be observed in later generations.

For privacy, I will call this client "Joan".
Joan came to me experiencing significant shoulder pain and pain across the bridge of her foot. At times, this pain made it difficult for her to wear certain types of shoes.
On the surface, it was easy to assume what she was carrying. She was a single mum of three, bills were building up, and she was in a job that no longer felt aligned with who she was.
We have all heard the phrases:
"The weight of the world is on my shoulders."
"I am carrying so much."
It seemed obvious.
But as we explored things more deeply, a different story emerged.
Joan had been a ballet dancer throughout her childhood. At around the age of 11, when she received her first pair of pointe shoes, she remembered lying in bed sobbing. In that memory, she felt lonely, misunderstood and afraid.
Her mum had also been a competitive dancer as a child. An injury had ended her own dancing journey, and so she had encouraged Joan from a very young age. She attended performances, supported her training and was proud of her daughter.
But as Joan got older, she realised that she no longer wanted to dance and the pointe shoes made her feet ache.
One evening, she told her mum she was ill because she did not want to attend. Her mum responded practically, offering a hot water bottle and paracetamol, but Joan experienced that moment as a lack of understanding. Beneath it was a deeper feeling: I cannot disappoint her. I have to carry this expectation.
Those emotions did not disappear simply because time passed.
They became part of the story Joan carried into adulthood.
As we created space to understand those beliefs, Joan began to reconnect with her own choices, needs and identity. She moved into a new career, felt more on top of life as a single mum, and started dancing socially again. She could wear shoes she loved again and enjoy herself without carrying the same emotional weight.
Her story is a reminder that our bodies and emotions are often connected in ways we do not immediately recognise.
Through my work in chronic pain support, nervous system regulation and belief rewiring, I often see that people are carrying far more than physical discomfort.
They may be carrying responsibility.
They may be carrying fear.
They may be carrying the belief that they must keep going, keep everyone happy, stay productive, never rest or never let anyone down.
Our experiences, thoughts, emotions and stress responses can all influence how safe, supported and resourced we feel in our bodies.
That does not mean pain is "all in your head." Pain is real. Symptoms are real. Medical support matters.
But emotional wellbeing, nervous system regulation, self-awareness and the stories we hold about ourselves can also be meaningful parts of a wider healing journey.
Sometimes the question is not only, "What is happening in my body?"
Sometimes it is also, "What have I been carrying for too long?"
You can see the full range of ways we work through this together on the services page.
As parents, our role is to love, nurture and guide our children.
Each child arrives with their own personality, hopes, dreams, gifts and path. Our job is not to create a version of them that fulfils our unfinished dreams. It is to support them in becoming who they are.
I believe most parents genuinely want that for their children.
Yet sometimes, unintentionally, our own fears, insecurities, and unresolved experiences influence how we respond. This does not come from a lack of love. It often comes from a lack of healing, forgiveness or understanding around our own journey.
When we have not had space to explore what hurt us, we may unknowingly project it onto the people we love most.
We may push because we are afraid they will miss out.
We may over-schedule because being busy was all we knew.
We may expect achievement because achievement was how we learned to feel worthy.
We may struggle to hear "no" because we were never allowed to say it ourselves.
This is where generational healing begins: not with blame, but with awareness.
During some of the deepest healing work I have experienced, I have felt connected to the idea of healing the family line.
For me, this has looked like acknowledging and releasing emotional patterns that may have travelled through generations. I do not know every detail of what my great-grandmother experienced, what she passed to my grandmother or what my grandmother passed to my mum.
But I have felt the impact of those patterns.
I have felt the emotions.
And I have created space for forgiveness.
It is difficult to fully explain because it is something that is often felt rather than simply understood intellectually. But there is something powerful about choosing to say:
"This pattern may have existed before me, but it does not have to continue through me."

As I write this, it is 7th July, and my daughter can walk again.
Anyone who knows our little Halle knows she is the most sociable, outgoing and bubbly soul. She truly was a rainbow landing in our family.
In many ways, she reminds me of myself before life experiences made me quieter, more cautious and more disconnected from who I was.
She loves singing, drama and dancing. She has had rhythm since she was around two years old. We were able to enrol her early in dance because her teacher could see how enthusiastic she was.
Dancing has always been part of who she is.
Until recently.
Around two years ago, Halle began experiencing heel pain and was diagnosed with Sever's disease. She continued dancing and competing, resting when she needed to. She wore a padded boot when it flared, and when it settled, she would return to training, sometimes dancing up to five hours a week.
Over the past six months, the flare-ups became more frequent. The pain moved from her heel into her foot and ankle, mainly on the right side, and at one point she began feeling discomfort on the left too.
There were moments where she could join in with activities she loved, such as performing arts or dancing at a party, but afterwards she would be back in a boot or on crutches.
Seeing this, you instinctively look and think, "She's having us on." And I must admit, I had that thought initially. But knowing this work, there had to be more to the story.
I wanted to understand what was going on for her emotionally as well as physically. We had a really open, in-depth conversation.
And she told me something I had not expected.
She did not want to dance anymore.
After seven years, she was ready for something different.I was shocked, but I also understood.
The harder conversation was telling her dad.
Her dad played badminton for England for many years. His own childhood was busy, structured and filled with activity. As he got older, he gave it up. I cannot say exactly what emotions or beliefs he carried from that time, because we have not explored that fully together.
But I can understand why being busy and committed has held such importance in his life. It was what he knew.
Once Halle was able to say what she truly wanted, and once that was heard and accepted, something shifted.
The following morning, her ankle felt fine.
I am not suggesting that every physical symptom has one simple emotional explanation. Bodies are complex. Children need appropriate medical support, assessment and care sometimes.
Research on the mind-body connection in children shows that unresolved emotional distress can influence how physical pain is experienced and expressed.
But I also know that being heard, feeling safe to express ourselves and being allowed to choose our own path can have a profound impact on our wellbeing. Because the body is keeping track of everything.
If there is one question I invite you to consider today, it is this:
What might this pain, tension or discomfort be asking me to notice? What's the benefit?
Perhaps it is asking you to rest.
Perhaps it is asking you to set a boundary.
Perhaps it is asking you to speak honestly.
Perhaps it is asking you to stop carrying expectations that were never yours to hold.
Perhaps it is asking you to reconnect with the part of you that has been waiting to be heard.
In adulthood, we can carry years of stories that no longer belong to who we are now. Healing can involve gently unpicking what is current, what is inherited and what is simply an old survival pattern.
Our bodies are incredibly intelligent. Our brains are phenomenally capable. And when we begin to understand our patterns with compassion, curiosity and support, we create the possibility for new choices.
This is why I am so passionate about nervous system healing, belief rewiring, emotional wellbeing and metaphysical anatomy.
Not because there is one answer for everyone.
But because every person deserves the chance to understand themselves more deeply, release what no longer serves them and return to the life, freedom and joy that is waiting for them.
You can explore the thinking behind this approach further on the Science & Spirituality page.
"Forever Aligned, Mitigated in Loving Yourself" means this: when you are aligned with self-love, you can soften the impact of old patterns.

Ready to explore what your body might be carrying?
Book a free discovery call. No pressure, just an honest conversation about where you are and what's possible.
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Generational trauma, also called intergenerational trauma, refers to emotional patterns, beliefs or coping responses passed down from one generation to the next, often without anyone realising it's happening.
Many practitioners and emerging research suggest unresolved emotional stress, including inherited patterns, can influence the nervous system. This may in turn affect how pain and physical symptoms are experienced.
Common signs include chronic people-pleasing, perfectionism, difficulty resting, or a sense of responsibility that feels bigger than your own life. These often trace back to beliefs formed earlier in your family line.
Yes. Children are highly attuned to the emotional states of the adults around them. Unresolved stress or expectations can shape a child's beliefs about safety, worth and belonging, even when that was never the intention.
Reanne Murray is the founder of Fibro2Phoenix and a transformational, somatic coach and breathwork practitioner based in Manchester. Diagnosed with fibromyalgia in 2021 and author of Fibromyalgia: Chronic Pain to Limitless Living, Reanne draws on her own healing journey and professional training in trauma awareness, breathwork and transformational coaching to help women understand the deeper patterns behind chronic pain. Learn more about Reanne's story.