Ancestral Trauma Healing

Here is what the journalist presents:

“Il suffit d’aller sur internet pour trouver… une femme prétendant savoir d’où vient l’endométriose… Elle peut venir d’autres vies et du transgénérationnel… je porte des traumas pour mes lignées… pour des lignées de femmes.”
"Just go online and you will quickly find a woman claiming to know the origin of endometriosis… She says it can come from past lives and ancestral trauma… that she carries trauma for her family lines, especially for lines of women."
 

This summary is presented mockingly—as if even the possibility of ancestral trauma were inherently absurd. The piece continues:

“C’est séduisant, mais impossible, contredit la science.”
"It may sound appealing, but it is impossible, science says."
 

Impossible? That is a bold word for a field as dynamic as epigenetics.

The article implies a dangerous dichotomy: either something has a known molecular mechanism, or it is meaningless. That worldview collapses under its own rigidity.

Here is one particularly telling argument:

“Pourquoi l’endométriose serait-elle précisément la conséquence de la fausse couche de cette arrière-grand-mère, et pas d’un traumatisme vécu par un des 13 autres ancêtres, et des hommes par exemple ?”
"Why would endometriosis be specifically the result of a miscarriage experienced by the great-grandmother, and not by one of the other 13 ancestors—some of whom were men?"
 

This question is posed to mock the logic of ancestral trauma—but ironically, it reveals a mechanistic misunderstanding. Memory—whether genetic, symbolic, or vibrational—is not linear. It is field-based. Certain stories surface not because of clear lineages, but because conditions—emotional, energetic, or biological—ripen. This is not random. It is resonant.

Let me be clear:

• Not all illness is symbolic.
• Not all pain is inherited.
• Not all healing stories are universal truths.
   

But in the therapeutic setting, I have seen again and again how patterns emerge—not as fact, but as invitation. A phobia that maps onto a historical era. A chronic tension that lifts after symbolic release. A body that speaks what the conscious mind cannot yet say.

The point is not to prove that your ancestor’s miscarriage caused your illness. The point is to listen differently—to understand that the body speaks in riddles, in metaphors, and sometimes in echoes [6].

You do not need to believe in past lives, resonance fields, or archetypes to understand this: Healing is a dialogue. Between the body, the psyche, the field. Between now and before. Between what is conscious and what is not.

Science is catching up. But until it does, do not let a flat headline silence the whisper of insight.

You are not carrying your ancestor’s wound because of superstition.
You are remembering it because the time to resolve it may be now.

1. Yehuda, R. et al. (2016). Holocaust exposure induced intergenerational effects on FKBP5 methylation. Biological Psychiatry, 80(5), 372–380.
    
2. Heijmans, B.T. et al. (2008). Persistent epigenetic differences associated with prenatal exposure to famine in humans. PNAS, 105(44), 17046–17049.
    
3. Tobi, E.W. et al. (2009). DNA methylation differences after exposure to prenatal famine are common and timing‐ and sex‐specific. Human Molecular Genetics, 18(21), 4046–4053.
    
4. Rubik, B. (2002). The biofield hypothesis: its biophysical basis and role in medicine. Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine, 8(6), 703–717.
    
5. Braden, G. (2017). Human by Design: From Evolution by Chance to Transformation by Choice. Hay House.
    
6. Schore, A.N. (2001). The effects of early relational trauma on right brain development, affect regulation, and infant mental health. Infant Mental Health Journal, 22(1–2), 201–269.