The Weight of Our Past and Breaking Cycles
I didn’t grow up thinking about “breaking cycles.”
I grew up just trying to survive them.
In a place like Youngstown, Ohio, conflict wasn’t something you avoided—it was something you learned to live with. Fighting, reacting, proving yourself… it wasn’t rare. It was normal.
It often felt like life was already written for me. A tough town, blue-collar families, constant pressure, and just enough chaos to keep you stuck in patterns you didn’t even realize you were repeating. You didn’t stop to reflect—you reacted. You didn’t think about the future—you got through the day.
I learned to fight young.
To react instead of reflect.
To survive instead of dream.
And for a long time, I didn’t question any of it.
But deep down… I felt it.
Every fight.
Every bad decision.
Every moment I let my anger win.
I carried all of it.
I wanted to be more. To do more.
But I didn’t know how to break free from the cycle I was caught in.
Growing Up in the Cycle
My childhood wasn’t just difficult—it was unpredictable.
My dad had a temper and battled addiction. Some days were fine. Other days weren’t. And when you grow up like that, you learn to stay on edge without even realizing it. You learn to read the room. You learn to react fast. You learn to protect yourself.
My brother ended up in his own battle—with heroin. Different path… same kind of pain. Watching that unfold, knowing where it could lead, but feeling like there was nothing I could do—it sticks with you.
And my mom… she was the rock. Even while fighting cancer, she held everything together the best she could. But even her strength couldn’t completely shield me from the direction I was heading.
One memory that stuck with me happened when me and my brother were still really young—probably around seven and three.
I was sitting in the living room playing my Atari, just minding my own business, when my little brother came in and ripped the cartridge straight out of the system without even asking.
He was just a kid. He didn’t know any better.
So I held him back with one arm—not to hurt him, just to keep him from messing the system up while I shut it off.
But he started crying.
And before I could even explain what happened, my dad came charging in from the other room.
He didn’t ask a single question.
He just grabbed me and threw me across the room into the wall.
I hit hard enough that when I stood up… I realized I had peed my pants.
I remember just standing there—shocked, embarrassed, and not really understanding what I did wrong.
That moment stayed with me.
And it wasn’t the only one.
When I was nine years old, my parents got divorced.
That moment didn’t just change our family—it changed me.
The world I thought I understood split into two different versions, and I was left trying to figure out where I fit in both of them. My dad was tough on me—sometimes too tough. And for a long time, I carried that with me.
Years later, when I had my own kids, I started to notice something in myself that scared me.
It wasn’t the same level—but it was there.
I’d lose my temper over things that didn’t really matter—snap, yell, react before I even had time to think.
And the second it happened, I’d feel it.
That regret.
That same feeling I used to have as a kid.
Like… why did I just do that?
They were just being kids. They didn’t deserve that.
And I knew in those moments—I had a choice.
I could keep repeating what I grew up around… or I could be the one to start changing it.
That’s when I started digging into it.
Reading. Learning. Trying to understand where that anger came from and how it gets passed down.
Because I never wanted my kids to feel the way I used to feel.
I didn’t want them to be afraid of me.
And somewhere in that process… I started to see something differently.
Maybe my dad didn’t know how to control it either.
Maybe it was passed down to him, just like I felt it in me.
And that didn’t make it right—but it helped me understand it.
And eventually… it helped me forgive him.
As I got older, I started seeing patterns everywhere.
People reacting out of pain.
Out of trauma.
Out of things they never dealt with.
And I realized… I was doing the same thing.
That was the beginning of letting go.
Not because people suddenly deserved it.
But because I needed it.
Because forgiveness isn’t about excusing someone’s behavior—it’s about freeing yourself from carrying it.
The Moment I Realized I Had to Start Breaking Cycles
Change didn’t come all at once.
There wasn’t one single moment where everything just clicked—no big breakthrough where I suddenly had it all figured out.
It was slower than that.
A series of realizations that built over time.
Watching my brother struggle with addiction.
Seeing my mom fight for her life.
Feeling the weight of my own decisions catching up to me.
All of it started to pile up.
And somewhere in that, I realized something I couldn’t ignore anymore:
If I didn’t change… I was going to lose everything.
There were moments where everything felt heavier than I could handle, and I didn’t always know how to deal with it. I shared more about that time in my life here:
👉 How Empathy Kept Me Alive in My Darkest Moments
I was tired of carrying guilt.
Tired of feeling stuck.
Tired of looking at my life and knowing I wasn’t living up to who I could be.
That’s when things started to shift even more.
Because by that point, I already had my own family.
Three sons who were watching everything I did—whether I realized it or not.
And a wife who believed in me, even when I wasn’t always giving her the best version of myself.
It wasn’t just about me anymore.
It made me realize I had a responsibility—not just to them, but to myself.
Because I didn’t want my kids growing up around the same patterns I did.
I didn’t want them learning anger before understanding.
I didn’t want them feeling like they had to walk on eggshells.
I wanted to be better.
Not just say it. Not just think it.
Actually be it.
Around that time, I came across a quote that hit me harder than I expected:
“It’s not your fault how someone treated you poorly, but it’s damn sure your responsibility to do something to fix it.”
That stuck with me.
Because for a long time, I let my past define me.
I let it justify my reactions.
My anger.
My choices.
But the truth is… no one was coming to fix it for me.
And even the people who cared about me—they had their own lives, their own struggles.
At some point, it becomes your responsibility.
And deep down, I already knew that.
I just hadn’t fully accepted it yet.
That realization changed everything.
Not overnight.
Not perfectly.
But it shifted the direction I was heading.
I stopped looking at my past as something that controlled me… and started seeing it as something I could learn from.
Something I could grow from.
Something I could break.
I don’t think I’m better than anyone else.
But I do know this:
If I can change… so can you.
Life Lessons: Steps to Break the Cycle and Move from Reactive to Empathetic
Change didn’t happen overnight for me.
It came from small shifts—choices I had to make over and over again until they became who I was.
These are some of the biggest life lessons that helped me start breaking the cycle.
**Acknowledging the Past Without Letting It Define You**
I had to be honest about where I came from.
Not ignore it. Not pretend it didn’t affect me.
But also not let it control who I became.
For a long time, I used my past as an excuse—something to point to when things went wrong. But eventually I realized something important:
The past can be a lesson… without becoming a life sentence.
**Breaking Generational Patterns**
This one hit the hardest.
Because it wasn’t just about me anymore—it was about my kids.
I had to take a real look at the patterns I grew up around and ask myself:
*Do I want this continuing through me?*
And the answer was no.
So I made a conscious decision to be different.
To show my kids that strength isn’t about fighting—it’s about understanding, patience, resilience, and knowing when to walk away.
**Choosing Growth Over Anger**
Anger is easy.
It’s fast. It’s automatic. It feels justified in the moment.
But it also keeps you stuck.
I had to learn how to pause—to take a breath before reacting. To ask myself what was really going on underneath the surface.
That shift alone changed everything.
Because when you stop reacting and start reflecting, you give yourself a chance to grow.
**Taking Small Steps to Make a Difference**
I used to think change had to be something big.
Something dramatic.
But that’s not how it works.
It’s the small choices that add up.
Choosing patience instead of yelling.
Choosing to listen instead of react.
Choosing to show up better than you did yesterday.
I know I can’t change the whole world.
But I also know doing nothing isn’t an option for me anymore.
So whether it’s being a positive influence in my town, lifting someone else up, or simply showing kindness where it’s least expected—
those small actions matter more than we think.
I talk more about that in my story about how small acts of kindness can change lives.
Why I Still Fight for a Better World
Today, I have a stable job, a beautiful family, and a deeper sense of purpose.
But even with all of that… I can’t ignore what’s still happening around me.
I still see the pain.
The conflict.
The same cycles that keep people stuck.
And it hurts too much to pretend it’s not there.
I don’t just want a better life for my family—I want a better world for everyone.
And even though I know how hard real change is… I also know doing nothing isn’t an option.
That’s why I started Evolved From Empathy.
Not because I have everything figured out—but because I’ve lived it.
I’ve been stuck. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve carried things I didn’t know how to let go of.
And if sharing my story helps even one person realize they’re not alone… or that change is possible… then it’s worth it.
Because we can break the cycle.
We can grow.
We can evolve.
One person.
One conversation.
One act of empathy at a time.
How You Can Start Breaking Cycles
If you’re reading this and something in it feels familiar… you don’t have to change everything overnight.
Start small.
Start with one small change
Choose not to argue. Reach out to someone who needs support. Forgive someone who’s hurt you. Small steps lead to big shifts.
Pause before you react
Ask yourself: *What am I really feeling? What outcome do I actually want?*
That moment of awareness can change everything.
Write it out
Journaling helped me recognize patterns I didn’t even know I had. Reflection creates clarity. If you’re new to journaling, this guide can help you get started.
Accept that growth isn’t linear
You’re going to mess up sometimes. You’re going to have setbacks. That doesn’t mean you’re failing—it means you’re trying. Keep going.
If my journey resonates with you, I hope you’ll stick around.
This isn’t about being perfect.
It’s about being better than we were yesterday.
Because real strength isn’t found in conflict—
it’s found in the courage to change.
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