My Her-story

Just as each one of us is unique, our trauma is also unique, specific and personal. I’ll share a bit of my own story of trauma----the real sadness, struggling, feeling of being stuck and more.

It is certainly clear that a large part of the trauma I experienced in my formative years (0-7 years) is what’s called intergenerational or transgenerational trauma. This is when trauma can be transferred between generations. Studies in the fairly new field of epigenetics confirm this. With this intergenerational trauma came some developmental trauma too, which many of us experience and don’t always realize. I was definitely grappling and yet, wasn’t consciously aware that this was the case until I was in my 30’s, pregnant with my son and performing, as an actor in a play called, ‘Children Of….’. There were 14 of us and we were all the children of Holocaust survivors, who had come from different countries, backgrounds and who had different stories (or histories). When I saw that all of us in this group of actors had been negatively affected by their parent’s and family’s stories, I discovered that I was part of this story of loss, war, hiding, fear, death, horror………..and trauma.

On the simplest level, the concept of intergenerational trauma acknowledges that exposure to extremely adverse events or to smaller, adverse events over an extended period, impact individuals to such a great extent that their offspring can grapple with their parent’s post-traumatic state. It can be that the experience of trauma or rather, the effect of that experience, is ‘passed’ in some way from one generation to the next through non-genomic, possibly epigenetic mechanisms affecting DNA function or gene transcription. All this to say that while the genes themselves are not altered, the functioning of them is. In simpler words, the ‘on-off switch’ of the genes can be turned on or off.

Intergenerational trauma is often seen in situations involving war, persistent poverty, oppression, persecution…..

Within my family, there was lots of persecution….. generations of it. Antisemitism was, literally, chasing my family from country to country. My parents were both born and raised in Paris, France and were French Jewish ‘hidden children’ during WWII and the Holocaust. Their parents had to find hiding places for them solely for being who or what they were born as----Jewish. Their parents, my grandparents, were immigrants from other countries, who were not at all religious or even, practicing Jews. My mother was 7 years when the war started and my father was 9 years. My mom’s parents placed her and her brother with a widow, who lived on a farm in south-central France. My grandparents paid this lovely woman, who my mom called Maman Louise and she took good care of them and even loved them. After requesting baptismal certificates from my grandparents for a few years, Maman Louise’s daughter, Louisette, who was a teacher in Toulouse, started suspecting that my mom and uncle were Jewish kids. She urged her mother to get them placed elsewhere; her life was at risk. By the way, Maman Louise’s husband was named, Louis. You can’t make this stuff up…..

An organization, OAE, which helped children get placed in hiding, put my mom and uncle into a poor and religious Huguenot (French Protestant) community in Chambon-sur-Lignon. This brave bunch of souls hid and saved approximately 5,000 Jews, most of them kids, during the Holocaust and were led by Pastor Trocme and his wife, Magda, two of the war’s heroes. My mother’s time here was not a happy one. She recalled always feeling hungry and cold and the woman they stayed with was a bit abusive. In the end, though, she saved their lives.

My father and his family hid in the South of France, near the city of Nice, on the Cote-d’Azur. At the time, this area was still considered the free zone. I don’t know exactly what event most traumatized my dad but, at the end of his life, I understood that there had been something that he had blacked and blocked out of his conscious mind. It left him with a black cloud hanging over his life, low level depression and low self-worth.

My folks had both lost their childhoods and my mother lost her father too. He was killed at Auschwitz concentration camp at the young age of 36 years. My parent’s lives were forever altered, their emotional health stunted and so much sadness, anger, and fear pervaded our childhood home. My brother and I were raised with the idea that the world is a dangerous and scary place. Unintentionally, extreme fear was instilled into our minds, hearts, bodies and souls.

I don’t blame my parents or theirs before them, who all suffered unimaginably and had families who had been persecuted, generation after generation. I mention developmental trauma too because my folks were not able to pay full attention to me, probably because of their own deep hurt and because they were busy with close family members, who were suffering with serious mental health issues. On some level, they could not nurture my brother and I in healthy ways. They loved us, for sure, but could not and did not know how to express or mimic healthy parenting.

This left me with the feeling that I was ignored, invisible, not that important and not totally acceptable just as I was (the authentic little girl me). I was a quick learner and understood, at a deeper, empathic level, that I should ‘act’ and ‘be’ a certain way to feel safe and get the love I needed. So, I repressed the real me and became the mask or persona of me. This conflict between this mask and the inner, authentic me caused me lots of inner confusion and pain. My nervous system was running on high speed; I was constantly anxious and full of deep sadness.

I spent years in therapy, coaching, hypnosis, courses, reading lots and lots of books……and finally, only recently and after a long and often painful path, have come to know, appreciate fully and love, the authentic me; the beautiful, creative, healer, sweet, loyal and loving me. It has not been an easy path and I, sometimes if not often, felt sorry for myself. But I’m here to tell you that although it can be a tough, even-hellish, up and down rollercoaster of a ride, it has brought me to where I am today and who I am today-------------back to me, the rediscovered, true me, with all my unique and particular strengths, gifts and talents.

I now surround myself with love, creativity, compassion, humor, true friendship and I am filled with the self-esteem, self-worth and most important, self-love that is necessary to thrive. It’s a hell of a journey but, when you come out on the other side, you can, finally, feel the joy, inner peace and contentment that you were born with and are meant to feel. This challenging and healing path is the re-discovery of WHO you truly are, WHY you’re here (purpose) and WHAT you’re meant to do.

By the way, it doesn’t matter what age or stage of life you’re at or in. It’s time to fully express and be this beautiful being you were born to be. Take it from one who knows……….You can do this! You are strong. You are worthy. You are loved. You are enough----just the way you are.

With smiles and love,

Dr Gigi

PS: Please feel free to share your story or comments @www.gigiarnaud or on the social media links below.

If you want and/or are ready for a guide for this very personal journey, I am here for you.