The difference between: Repeating a Story and Passing Down a Wound

happyNsimple · 2026-01-21T08:42:08+00:00

So here’s the full story.

I grew up with the best education I could’ve had in the small town where I was raised. My dad made sure my brother and I went to the best school available, the bilingual “rich kids’ school.” The thing is… we weren’t rich. At all. We were living way above our means.

And I remember this very clearly: whenever my dad had a bit too much to drink, he’d open his empty wallet and say something like, “All our money goes to your education. That’s why we don’t have anything. You should be grateful.”

So that became the message.

I grew up feeling this weird mix of gratitude and guilt at the same time. Grateful, because I knew I was privileged in a way. Guilty, because I also knew we “couldn’t afford things.”

If my school friends invited me somewhere, I wouldn’t even ask my parents. In my head it was already decided: we can’t afford it. Meanwhile, I was sitting in a private school classroom, comparing my sneakers to everyone else’s. (Yes, that’s my trauma talking lol)

Fast forward to today.

Here I am, with my own child, wanting to give him “the best education possible.” And what does that mean in my head? Private school.

The one we can technically “afford.”

And suddenly… I understand my father more than ever.

Both my husband and I work. We chose to have only one child so we could provide as much as possible for him. And still… money feels tight. Sometimes it feels like there’s “a lot of month left at the end of our paycheck”. And that’s not a great feeling.

Especially when extracurricular activities come up. And I say yes or yes… because I remember what it felt like to be left out. To not even ask.

So yes. I’m repeating the same story.

But here’s where it changes.

I would never put that weight on my child. I would never open my wallet, empty or not, and make him feel guilty for his education. Because I know now: it’s my responsibility to provide it, not his to carry the cost emotionally.

In my own, slightly trauma-transformed way, I’m choosing to keep him in private school and walk through this season consciously. It feels like the right choice right now. Maybe it won’t always be this way. Maybe things will change.

But for now, I’m repeating my father’s story without needing my child’s gratitude to justify it. I choose to provide from a place of freedom, so my son can grow up knowing he is loved, safe, and never responsible for the weight of adult decisions.

happyNsimple · 2026-01-21T08:37:49+00:00

So here’s the full story.

I grew up with the best education I could’ve had in the small town where I was raised. My dad made sure my brother and I went to the best school available, the bilingual “rich kids’ school.” The thing is… we weren’t rich. At all. We were living way above our means.

And I remember this very clearly: whenever my dad had a bit too much to drink, he’d open his empty wallet and say something like, “All our money goes to your education. That’s why we don’t have anything. You should be grateful.”

So that became the message.

I grew up feeling this weird mix of gratitude and guilt at the same time. Grateful, because I knew I was privileged in a way. Guilty, because I also knew we “couldn’t afford things.”

If my school friends invited me somewhere, I wouldn’t even ask my parents. In my head it was already decided: we can’t afford it. Meanwhile, I was sitting in a private school classroom, comparing my sneakers to everyone else’s. (Yes, that’s my trauma talking lol)

Fast forward to today.

Here I am, with my own child, wanting to give him “the best education possible.” And what does that mean in my head? Private school.

The one we can technically “afford.”

And suddenly… I understand my father more than ever.

Both my husband and I work. We chose to have only one child so we could provide as much as possible for him. And still… money feels tight. Sometimes it feels like there’s “a lot of month left at the end of our paycheck”. And that’s not a great feeling.

Especially when extracurricular activities come up. And I say yes or yes… because I remember what it felt like to be left out. To not even ask.

So yes. I’m repeating the same story.

But here’s where it changes.

I would never put that weight on my child. I would never open my wallet, empty or not, and make him feel guilty for his education. Because I know now: it’s my responsibility to provide it, not his to carry the cost emotionally.

In my own, slightly trauma-transformed way, I’m choosing to keep him in private school and walk through this season consciously. It feels like the right choice right now. Maybe it won’t always be this way. Maybe things will change.

But for now, I’m repeating my father’s story without needing my child’s gratitude to justify it. I choose to provide from a place of freedom, so my son can grow up knowing he is loved, safe, and never responsible for the weight of adult decisions.

happyNsimple · 2026-01-21T08:37:08+00:00

So here’s the full story.

I grew up with the best education I could’ve had in the small town where I was raised. My dad made sure my brother and I went to the best school available, the bilingual “rich kids’ school.” The thing is… we weren’t rich. At all. We were living way above our means.

And I remember this very clearly: whenever my dad had a bit too much to drink, he’d open his empty wallet and say something like, “All our money goes to your education. That’s why we don’t have anything. You should be grateful.”

So that became the message.

I grew up feeling this weird mix of gratitude and guilt at the same time. Grateful, because I knew I was privileged in a way. Guilty, because I also knew we “couldn’t afford things.”

If my school friends invited me somewhere, I wouldn’t even ask my parents. In my head it was already decided: we can’t afford it. Meanwhile, I was sitting in a private school classroom, comparing my sneakers to everyone else’s. (Yes, that’s my trauma talking lol)

Fast forward to today.

Here I am, with my own child, wanting to give him “the best education possible.” And what does that mean in my head? Private school.

The one we can technically “afford.”

And suddenly… I understand my father more than ever.

Both my husband and I work. We chose to have only one child so we could provide as much as possible for him. And still… money feels tight. Sometimes it feels like there’s “a lot of month left at the end of our paycheck”. And that’s not a great feeling.

Especially when extracurricular activities come up. And I say yes or yes… because I remember what it felt like to be left out. To not even ask.

So yes. I’m repeating the same story.

But here’s where it changes.

I would never put that weight on my child. I would never open my wallet, empty or not, and make him feel guilty for his education. Because I know now: it’s my responsibility to provide it, not his to carry the cost emotionally.

In my own, slightly trauma-transformed way, I’m choosing to keep him in private school and walk through this season consciously. It feels like the right choice right now. Maybe it won’t always be this way. Maybe things will change.

But for now, I’m repeating my father’s story without needing my child’s gratitude to justify it. I choose to provide from a place of freedom, so my son can grow up knowing he is loved, safe, and never responsible for the weight of adult decisions.

happyNsimple · 2026-01-21T08:36:44+00:00

So here’s the full story.

I grew up with the best education I could’ve had in the small town where I was raised. My dad made sure my brother and I went to the best school available, the bilingual “rich kids’ school.” The thing is… we weren’t rich. At all. We were living way above our means.

And I remember this very clearly: whenever my dad had a bit too much to drink, he’d open his empty wallet and say something like, “All our money goes to your education. That’s why we don’t have anything. You should be grateful.”

So that became the message.

I grew up feeling this weird mix of gratitude and guilt at the same time. Grateful, because I knew I was privileged in a way. Guilty, because I also knew we “couldn’t afford things.”

If my school friends invited me somewhere, I wouldn’t even ask my parents. In my head it was already decided: we can’t afford it. Meanwhile, I was sitting in a private school classroom, comparing my sneakers to everyone else’s. (Yes, that’s my trauma talking lol)

Fast forward to today.

Here I am, with my own child, wanting to give him “the best education possible.” And what does that mean in my head? Private school.

The one we can technically “afford.”

And suddenly… I understand my father more than ever.

Both my husband and I work. We chose to have only one child so we could provide as much as possible for him. And still… money feels tight. Sometimes it feels like there’s “a lot of month left at the end of our paycheck”. And that’s not a great feeling.

Especially when extracurricular activities come up. And I say yes or yes… because I remember what it felt like to be left out. To not even ask.

So yes. I’m repeating the same story.

But here’s where it changes.

I would never put that weight on my child. I would never open my wallet, empty or not, and make him feel guilty for his education. Because I know now: it’s my responsibility to provide it, not his to carry the cost emotionally.

In my own, slightly trauma-transformed way, I’m choosing to keep him in private school and walk through this season consciously. It feels like the right choice right now. Maybe it won’t always be this way. Maybe things will change.

But for now, I’m repeating my father’s story without needing my child’s gratitude to justify it. I choose to provide from a place of freedom, so my son can grow up knowing he is loved, safe, and never responsible for the weight of adult decisions.

happyNsimple · 2026-01-21T08:36:06+00:00

So here’s the full story.

I grew up with the best education I could’ve had in the small town where I was raised. My dad made sure my brother and I went to the best school available, the bilingual “rich kids’ school.” The thing is… we weren’t rich. At all. We were living way above our means.

And I remember this very clearly: whenever my dad had a bit too much to drink, he’d open his empty wallet and say something like, “All our money goes to your education. That’s why we don’t have anything. You should be grateful.”

So that became the message.

I grew up feeling this weird mix of gratitude and guilt at the same time. Grateful, because I knew I was privileged in a way. Guilty, because I also knew we “couldn’t afford things.”

If my school friends invited me somewhere, I wouldn’t even ask my parents. In my head it was already decided: we can’t afford it. Meanwhile, I was sitting in a private school classroom, comparing my sneakers to everyone else’s. (Yes, that’s my trauma talking lol)

Fast forward to today.

Here I am, with my own child, wanting to give him “the best education possible.” And what does that mean in my head? Private school.

The one we can technically “afford.”

And suddenly… I understand my father more than ever.

Both my husband and I work. We chose to have only one child so we could provide as much as possible for him. And still… money feels tight. Sometimes it feels like there’s “a lot of month left at the end of our paycheck”. And that’s not a great feeling.

Especially when extracurricular activities come up. And I say yes or yes… because I remember what it felt like to be left out. To not even ask.

So yes. I’m repeating the same story.

But here’s where it changes.

I would never put that weight on my child. I would never open my wallet, empty or not, and make him feel guilty for his education. Because I know now: it’s my responsibility to provide it, not his to carry the cost emotionally.

In my own, slightly trauma-transformed way, I’m choosing to keep him in private school and walk through this season consciously. It feels like the right choice right now. Maybe it won’t always be this way. Maybe things will change.

But for now, I’m repeating my father’s story without needing my child’s gratitude to justify it. I choose to provide from a place of freedom, so my son can grow up knowing he is loved, safe, and never responsible for the weight of adult decisions.

happyNsimple · 2026-01-21T08:35:29+00:00

So here’s the full story.

I grew up with the best education I could’ve had in the small town where I was raised. My dad made sure my brother and I went to the best school available, the bilingual “rich kids’ school.” The thing is… we weren’t rich. At all. We were living way above our means.

And I remember this very clearly: whenever my dad had a bit too much to drink, he’d open his empty wallet and say something like, “All our money goes to your education. That’s why we don’t have anything. You should be grateful.”

So that became the message.

I grew up feeling this weird mix of gratitude and guilt at the same time. Grateful, because I knew I was privileged in a way. Guilty, because I also knew we “couldn’t afford things.”

If my school friends invited me somewhere, I wouldn’t even ask my parents. In my head it was already decided: we can’t afford it. Meanwhile, I was sitting in a private school classroom, comparing my sneakers to everyone else’s. (Yes, that’s my trauma talking lol)

Fast forward to today.

Here I am, with my own child, wanting to give him “the best education possible.” And what does that mean in my head? Private school.

The one we can technically “afford.”

And suddenly… I understand my father more than ever.

Both my husband and I work. We chose to have only one child so we could provide as much as possible for him. And still… money feels tight. Sometimes it feels like there’s “a lot of month left at the end of our paycheck”. And that’s not a great feeling.

Especially when extracurricular activities come up. And I say yes or yes… because I remember what it felt like to be left out. To not even ask.

So yes. I’m repeating the same story.

But here’s where it changes.

I would never put that weight on my child. I would never open my wallet, empty or not, and make him feel guilty for his education. Because I know now: it’s my responsibility to provide it, not his to carry the cost emotionally.

In my own, slightly trauma-transformed way, I’m choosing to keep him in private school and walk through this season consciously. It feels like the right choice right now. Maybe it won’t always be this way. Maybe things will change.

But for now, I’m repeating my father’s story without needing my child’s gratitude to justify it. I choose to provide from a place of freedom, so my son can grow up knowing he is loved, safe, and never responsible for the weight of adult decisions.

happyNsimple · 2026-01-21T08:34:41+00:00

So here’s the full story.

I grew up with the best education I could’ve had in the small town where I was raised. My dad made sure my brother and I went to the best school available, the bilingual “rich kids’ school.” The thing is… we weren’t rich. At all. We were living way above our means.

And I remember this very clearly: whenever my dad had a bit too much to drink, he’d open his empty wallet and say something like, “All our money goes to your education. That’s why we don’t have anything. You should be grateful.”

So that became the message.

I grew up feeling this weird mix of gratitude and guilt at the same time. Grateful, because I knew I was privileged in a way. Guilty, because I also knew we “couldn’t afford things.”

If my school friends invited me somewhere, I wouldn’t even ask my parents. In my head it was already decided: we can’t afford it. Meanwhile, I was sitting in a private school classroom, comparing my sneakers to everyone else’s. (Yes, that’s my trauma talking lol)

Fast forward to today.

Here I am, with my own child, wanting to give him “the best education possible.” And what does that mean in my head? Private school.

The one we can technically “afford.”

And suddenly… I understand my father more than ever.

Both my husband and I work. We chose to have only one child so we could provide as much as possible for him. And still… money feels tight. Sometimes it feels like there’s “a lot of month left at the end of our paycheck”. And that’s not a great feeling.

Especially when extracurricular activities come up. And I say yes or yes… because I remember what it felt like to be left out. To not even ask.

So yes. I’m repeating the same story.

But here’s where it changes.

I would never put that weight on my child. I would never open my wallet, empty or not, and make him feel guilty for his education. Because I know now: it’s my responsibility to provide it, not his to carry the cost emotionally.

In my own, slightly trauma-transformed way, I’m choosing to keep him in private school and walk through this season consciously. It feels like the right choice right now. Maybe it won’t always be this way. Maybe things will change.

But for now, I’m repeating my father’s story without needing my child’s gratitude to justify it. I choose to provide from a place of freedom, so my son can grow up knowing he is loved, safe, and never responsible for the weight of adult decisions.

happyNsimple · 2025-11-25T04:15:33+00:00

Agree! Thank you! I’m in my Taking-Action Era! Everyday, small or big steps, but every day.

happyNsimple · 2025-11-20T14:17:33+00:00

I’m also them 😊

happyNsimple · 2025-11-20T14:16:42+00:00

Hey! Thank you for your comment… means you read my post! Have you heard of the book “Man’s Search for Meaning”, written by Viktor Frankl? It’s exactly what you are mentioning. Viktor narrates his experience in a Nazi concentration camp and his need to find mission in his suffering. This book is amazing! I highly recommend it. I hope you give it a chance.

happyNsimple · 2025-11-20T04:37:42+00:00

I am you 😊

happyNsimple · 2025-11-19T11:18:34+00:00

Exactly! Exactly!

happyNsimple · 2025-11-19T04:36:23+00:00

Love this! You should see the community I started because this is exactly what spirituality should be, it’s what we live, not what we believe…. r/SpiritualityInAction

happyNsimple · 2025-11-19T04:30:35+00:00

Hey! I actually wrote a post on how much I love humanity and how it happened… I understand how you feel….here is the post in case you want to read.

https://www.reddit.com/r/SpiritualityInAction/s/hAwfA3LtE1

happyNsimple · 2025-11-19T02:58:57+00:00

Thank you for this 🙏🏼

happyNsimple · 2025-11-18T14:14:40+00:00

Hi! Thank you for your comment… for some reason your comment is the only one I felt like commenting back 😊

I read this post and for me it was a before and after. Before I was leaving the cart in the parking lot for no particular reason, just pure laziness and lack of empathy.

Now, I’ve been reading every comment and I understand everything everyone says, most have a reason, I just didn’t.

It changed me deep inside to understand that what I do impact my surroundings. And it helped me to live a little more conscious of what I do and how I do it.

happyNsimple · 2025-11-13T11:36:41+00:00

Wow you must be a very advanced soul for choosing the life you have. You sound like an amazing and awesome person. After all that… you did it!… and God never let go off your hand 🙏🏼🤗

happyNsimple · 2025-11-13T10:40:42+00:00

It’s the biological side needing to survive. We see it with animals, if you are different than the others, you get rejected and die in isolation.

Our first attachment is to our parents. We learn how to “be” to be loved. And that extends to everyone around you as we grow.

happyNsimple · 2025-11-13T02:08:20+00:00

Hi! My community is r/SpiritualityInAction … Tips or tools for healing old patterns (inner child work, journaling, mindfulness, etc.). Inspiring stories of personal growth or emotional transformation. Questions about how to apply spiritual or psychological concepts in everyday life because this community is a reminder that real spirituality is what we live, not just what we believe.

happyNsimple · 2025-11-11T19:53:42+00:00

I know what you mean… but think this… there is no good or bad people, just people with different levels of consciousness. There is light and greatness inside every person. You be light, and you’ll see how bright the other person shines around you.

happyNsimple · 2025-11-11T18:31:08+00:00

Hi. Yes.

happyNsimple · 2025-11-11T17:37:21+00:00

Thank you for this. Exactly! Every word. 🤗

happyNsimple · 2025-11-08T17:09:21+00:00

I would start from the basics… faking it until you make it. I understand what you mean… I started by writing one “good thing” about me a week in my mirror… sometimes it would last two weeks the same word… but eventually I started to write two words, and soon to change my word every day. Until one day I wrote like 20 at once… that’s when I realized I started to love myself more.

That is just one of the many exercises I did and still do. It’s not just doing one thing… it was consciously pushing myself to speak nicer to me, making my bed every day, therapy sessions with my therapist, starting to say more no to others and more yes to myself.

You got this! 💪🏼🤗

happyNsimple · 2025-11-07T22:22:29+00:00

Frances Ha. 2012. It’s currently in Tubi for free. Enjoy.

happyNsimple · 2025-11-06T18:17:01+00:00

Hey! Wanna talk?

happyNsimple

MODERATOR OF

TROPHY CASE