Trauma Ends With Me — A Son’s Reflection on Parenting, Pain, and Healing.

Writing this, I don’t want to sound like I know so much about parenting. I’m just eight months into this sacred assignment, and every day feels like a new chapter. So I write, not just as a father, but as a son — one who grew up with siblings, both boys and girls — and one who carries memories that still shape me.

Because what you do as parents affects us in the long run.
Many of us are healing from wounds we didn’t cause.
We carry baggage that was packed for us in childhood.
And some of it still weighs heavy.

💔 When Protection Fails

I once had a heart-to-heart conversation with someone who opened up about her deepest wound.
She said, “I don’t trust my mother.”

I asked why.
She said, “When I was molested as an adolescent, I told her. But instead of protecting me, she blamed me. She left the person responsible untouched. I carry that resentment till today.”

Her protector didn’t stand up for her.
And now, she finds it hard to trust anyone.
Because the one who was supposed to shield her, didn’t.

“Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close.” — Psalm 27:10

🧠 Disappointment Begins at Home

Growing up, I learned disappointment first in the house.
And I carried it into adulthood.

I don’t trust anyone to do the job unless it’s me.
I expect disappointment before it even arrives.
I see it coming , and when it hits, it hurts deeply.

There was a time I decided to share responsibility with someone.
I relaxed.
I thought, “Finally, I can breathe.”
But they disappointed me.
And just like that, I snapped back to my default setting , do it yourself.

🎯 The Wedding That Proved My Point

When I planned my wedding, I did everything myself.
From beginning to end, I didn’t allocate any responsibility to anyone.
Why?
Because I was afraid of being let down.

On the day of my traditional wedding, I left wearing my agbada, got into a cab, and went to collect a banner someone forgot.
They were looking for me everywhere.
Minutes later, they saw me walking in, holding the banner.

My groomsmen were disappointed.
During the bachelor’s night, they spent hours begging me not to do anything during the reception the next day.

My best man said,

“If you leave Emmanuel, he will serve people at the reception.”

That statement stung — because it was true.
There’s this deep need in me to do everything myself.
And it was planted in me from childhood.

🛡️ Learning Vulnerability Through Marriage

There’s no room to be vulnerable.
I can’t afford it.
I’ve built walls.
I’ve learned to survive.
And I’ve convinced myself that strength means silence.

But recently, during a men’s meeting at church, someone asked me,
“What are you learning in marriage?”

I paused.
Then I said,

“God is teaching me vulnerability through my wife.”

The first letting go was the kitchen.
I love cooking.
I love making my own meals.
Letting go of that space took effort.
Now, I cook just to surprise her.
But there are days when we have misunderstandings, and I feel the urge to retreat — to go and cook just to feel in control.
Instead, I fight it.
I drink garri.
And I pray the moment passes.

I’m learning to share responsibility.
I’m learning to allow someone to take care of me.

That’s one thing that stood out about her, even when we were just friends.
She was the only one who asked, “What can I do for you?”

In the words of Robert Jr. about his wife,

“She saw me as a stray dog and decided to make it her life commitment to rehabilitate me.”

So please, anywhere you see my wife, hug her and thank her for me.

👶 Trauma Ends With Me

When my son was coming, one prayer echoed loudly in my spirit — and I still pray it every day:

“Trauma ends with me.”
“Eneojo, you will not experience what I experienced.”

Because I’ve seen the effects of what I learned from home.
And I refuse to pass it on.

🗣️ To Everyone Who Carries Childhood Pain

Please, when someone talks about their childhood, hear them out.
Don’t invalidate their feelings.
Don’t silence their truth.

African tradition often teaches that parents can never be wrong.
But parents can be wrong.
And acknowledging that doesn’t mean dishonor, it means healing.

“Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that you may be healed.” — James 5:16

If you went through a traumatic childhood, acknowledge it.
Let go.
Heal.

Because denying it only continues the cycle.
Do everything within your power to end it with you.
You must not carry it into the next generation.

“The righteous man walks in his integrity; his children are blessed after him.” — Proverbs 20:7