'The people doing the work are the ones healing. But let's be clear — this work isn't for the weak.'
The cost of healing
The people who are putting in the work are the people who are healing. But this work? It's not easy and it's not for the weak.
When you start healing from trauma — especially generational trauma — something happens. People around you, sometimes even family, can pull you back in. It's not always malicious. It's survival. Because when you start building something different, you're also disrupting a pattern they've learned to live in.
I've always believed that for many First Nations people, trauma becomes the storm we know how to ride. Rough waters feel more familiar than calm seas. So when we work hard to find peace and we finally reach those calm waters, we often panic. We self-sabotage. We make the waters rough again. Because calm feels unsafe when all you've ever known is chaos.
I've been there. I've fought hard to find peace and then thrown myself back into the storm because I didn't know how to exist outside of it.
What is intergenerational trauma?
Intergenerational trauma is the passing down of pain, survival patterns, and emotional wounds across generations. It can show up as:
- Distrust of authority
- Cycles of violence, addiction, or instability
- A deep sense of disconnection or rage
- Fear of calm or success
- Self-sabotage, even when things are going well
While intergenerational trauma is not unique to First Nations Peoples, we live within its layers. Colonisation. Stolen children. Dispossession. Racism. Poverty. These aren't just history lessons — they're embedded in our bodies, families, and systems.
And the systems we live in? They rarely support healing. In fact, many are designed to keep us stuck. Healing becomes an act of resistance.
How it impacts First Peoples
For Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, intergenerational trauma is a constant companion — but often an unspoken one.
We might grow up with violence, but never call it that. We might survive abuse, addiction, or displacement, and be expected to 'just get on with it.' We're taught to be tough. But strength without healing can become silence, addiction, burnout, or even suicide.
Learning to stay in calm waters — the SAFE way
For me, healing began when I started building the SAFE Method. It taught me that being safe isn't just about protection — it's about growth. It's about learning to:
- Feel safe in yourself
- Feel safe in community
- Feel safe in systems and organisations
I had to relearn how to live in calmness. To stop chasing chaos. To make peace feel like home.
Now, I use the SAFE Method not only to guide my personal healing, but to help organisations, teams, and communities shift their own patterns — from reactivity to groundedness, from trauma cycles to safe spaces.
This work is hard. But it's worth it.
If you're doing the work to break a generational cycle — I see you. It's hard. People will try to pull you back. Your own body will try to sabotage your progress. But keep going.
Calm is not a betrayal of your past — it's a gift to your future.
Need support?
- Lifeline: 13 11 14
- 13YARN: 13 92 76 — a 24/7 support line for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people