27 March 2025

On Carrying Things That Aren't Yours

Some of what we carry wasn't handed to us deliberately. It was absorbed — quietly, over years, through the people who raised us.

I think about this a lot — the weight people bring into the room that they didn't consciously choose to pick up.

The anxiety that's shaped exactly like a parent's. The tendency to minimise needs that mirrors a sibling's. The threshold for what counts as 'bad enough to say something' that was set by a household that didn't talk about feelings.

These aren't character flaws. They're inheritances.

Absorbed, not assigned

There's a difference between the things we learn explicitly — "this is how we handle conflict in this family" — and the things we absorb without being told. The second category is often more powerful, because it never got named. It got modelled, repeated, and normalised until it became the furniture of your mind.

By the time most people are adults, these patterns feel like them. Not something they took on, but something they are.

Part of therapy is learning to tell the difference.

What this actually looks like in sessions

It often comes up when someone describes a reaction that surprised them — a spike of anger that felt disproportionate, a collapse of confidence in a situation where they'd expected to feel sure of themselves, a recurring feeling of not-quite-enough that doesn't track with what they know about their lives.

When we slow down around those moments, we often find something older underneath them. Not a memory, necessarily — sometimes just a way of holding the self that was learned very early, before language, before the capacity to question it.

You're not stuck with what you inherited

This is the part I want to say clearly: the fact that you carry something doesn't mean you're doomed to carry it forever. Recognition is the beginning. Therapy doesn't ask you to erase your history — it asks you to have a different relationship with it.

When something moves from "this is who I am" to "this is something I learned", it doesn't disappear. But it loses some of its authority over you. You start to have choices you didn't have before.

That shift — from inherited pattern to conscious choice — is slow. It's not linear. And it's some of the most meaningful work there is.


If you find yourself returning to patterns you can't quite explain, that might be worth exploring. Reach out if you'd like to.

something resonated?