Breaking the Cycle

I come from a family you could call functional. Mom and dad, both at home, both present. But both of them came from broken homes: split families, no real interest in the kids, addictions in the mix. They were the first ones to break the cycle. And they dared to dream of something neither of them had grown up with: a safe place called family, somewhere to raise children. Without much formal education, but with dreams, and with the sheer stubbornness to want something different for us.

My parents weren't perfect. But they did what they could with the knowledge and the tools they had. And honestly, given everything they lived through, they handled it decently, acceptably well.

I've always believed that the ceiling one generation breaks through becomes the floor the next one stands on. We stand on the shoulders of these giants, and they push us further. I'm the first in my family to earn a university degree, and soon I'll be the first to earn a master's degree. The first to work in another language. The first to travel and see the world, to get into hobbies and interests that were never even on the picture at home, and to win competitions in them. The first to try new things just because, with no one asking me to or paying me for it. I'm not saying this to brag, but because I believe it's always worth breaking the cycle, and there's always someone who does it first. And that first step has a multiplying effect. I grew up with no addictions of my own, dreaming of one day building a home of my own, too, and of growing professionally.

I was also the first to believe in therapy. The first to go, to stick with it, to not walk away after the first uncomfortable session. And out of that came something I didn't expect, a diagnosis of two neurodivergences. Oh, surprise. Deep down, I always knew something was there (you sense it your whole life without having a name for it), but now at least it has a name, and with a name, I can work with it better.

Breaking the cycle isn't one single leap, it's a chain of small first steps, one after another, each one standing on the last. It's not easy, but you've got to start somewhere, and hopefully everyone else comes along.

Sometimes we think we can only tell our story when something extraordinary happens: saving the world, curing a disease. But changing your own story is extraordinary too. And through that, we can inspire others to think the impossible, the thing that, statistically, was never meant to be a reality in their life, and can still become one. That matters too, and it shouldn't go unnoticed.

This story is very personal. And putting it into words is healing for me. There's so much more to share, things I'm not ready to put into words yet, but they'll come in time.

I believe this community is a safe and fitting place to share something like this. I hope it reaches a sister who feels alone for daring to break her own cycle, who can connect with this story, pick up the flag, and be the first one to break the cycle in her own environment , and in doing so, give someone else permission to think the impossible.

You can break the cycle too.