Identity reclamation – the gift in every trauma release

Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels

I’ve recently been through an experience I can only describe as an ‘identity rewrite.’ As a result of some family secrets coming to light, a vague and nameless ache that’s been in me for as long as I can remember has been replaced by new clarity about who I am.

I have not received this gift—and it is a gift—because I’m lucky or in some way special. I’ve received it because identity reclamation is inherent in every trauma release. Which means that everywhere we’ve acquired trauma, we have lost identity.

The 1925 double-tragedy

In my case, the identity reclamation came from unravelling some family events that had been buried in silence for a century. In April 1925, my great-grandfather (54) and great-uncle (26) died within a day of each other. Compounding other family troubles, it seems to have disintegrated and scattered what was left of the family. I’ve written about this in more detail in The day my mother’s family died.

My grandmother lived (and suffered) through these events, yet she was later kicked out of the family for having an affair, breaking the possible line of transmission. I doubt my mother knew anything about these deaths; in a family tree drawn late in life she was unable to name either of her grandparents.

Bringing these events to life was deeply painful for the simple reason that I tapped into the feelings of shock, shame, loss and grief my ancestors were unable to at that time. Yet as those feelings dispersed, I became aware of a stronger core within myself.

True knowledge of our family’s past—good, bad, or ugly—confers real identity.

This real identity was always within me—yet it was smothered, drowned out by the dull numbing ache of unknown pain, shame, and grief. Unpicking the genealogical evidence through the lens of trauma-informed genealogy brought this latent identity to light.

Forms of identity reclamation

Identity reclamation can come in various forms:

• Negative to positive—a sense of wounded identity, of feeling unwanted—such as being the outcast of the family—transforms into a sense of being valued and wanted
• Previously unknown—a nameless ache gives way to a clear sense of internal structure and strength when family secrets come to light for integration—both emotionally and into the known and spoken family narrative
• Abandoned identity—our ancestors may have had to abandon their identity—such as language or cultural heritage—to assimilate into new environments; reclaiming pride in that ancestry strengthens our identity

The image above beautifully shows the subtle shift between lacking and possessing identity. When we lack it, we fall in line. When we possess it—like the girl second from left—we have an unmistakeable and unshakeable sense of selfhood.

But, of course, even the gift of identity reclamation comes at a price.

The ‘seat of the self’

What I’ve also learned through this experience is a truth that humanity has long sought to avoid: our sense of identity resides in our generative centre—the genitals, pelvis, and reproductive organs have long been recognised in Jewish theology, Greek philosophy, and Hindu Tantric mysticism as the ‘seat of the self.’

The words we use to describe origin, identity, selfhood, and biological continuity share a single root. Genesis, genitals, gene, genealogy, genetics, genital, gender, genus, genius, and generate all derive from the same Proto-Indo-European root, *gene-, meaning ‘to give birth, to beget.’

This is not accidental. It encodes a belief that the site of generation—the reproductive organs—is simultaneously the site of origin, identity, family, and kind. To speak of one’s genus (one’s kind or species), one’s genealogy (line of descent), one’s genes (biological inheritance), and one’s genitals is, etymologically, to speak of the same thing: the body that generates, continues, and defines the self across time.

This is why discovering our roots strengthens our identity. It’s why so many traumas relate to the generative centre—sex, births, marriages, deaths. And it also points to an inconvenient truth I have long upheld on this site: trauma clearing work can never be complete until it specifically includes the generative centre.

The gift of identity awaits us when we do.

Next steps

For further resources on generational trauma, both free and paid, please click on this image.