My grandmother used to say certain things with such certainty that i assumed the confidence came from wisdom. From having lived long enough to know. Later i realised some of it was just personality. Some people perform certainty because uncertainty feels too exposed, not because they actually know more.
We grow up absorbing the beliefs of the people who raised us without ever being told that those beliefs were also inherited, also incomplete, also shaped by fear and limitation and whatever era those people happened to be born into.
Some of those beliefs are genuinely good. Love, consistency, showing up for family. Real things passed down with real value. But some of what gets passed down quietly is fear dressed as wisdom. Smallness dressed as caution. Old pain that never got processed arriving as rules about how life is supposed to go.
And because it came from authority figures we trusted, we never questioned it. Just absorbed it and built parts of our identity around it, sometimes without realising until decades later that the foundation was not as solid as it felt.
My father was certain about certain things that i now understand came entirely from the generation he was raised in, from things that were done to him that he never sat down and examined properly. He passed some of that certainty to me without meaning to. Not out of malice. Just because that is how it travels.
None of this means the people who raised you were bad people or that the love was not real. It just means they were human beings doing their best with what they had been given, which was itself incomplete, which itself came from people who were also figuring it out without a manual.
At some point you have to take the inheritance honestly. Keep what serves you. Sit with the rest. And do the quiet work of deciding for yourself what you actually believe, separate from what you were handed.
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