Breaking the Chain

Somebody in the family had to be first.
First to say, “This stops with me.”
First to say, “I won’t live like that.”
First to take the uncomfortable step into the unknown.

It’s not glamorous. People don’t clap for you when you disrupt the way things have always been. They question you. They whisper. They call you “different,” like it’s a bad thing. But deep down, they know what you’re doing: breaking chains that have been passed down for generations.

Cycles of silence.
Cycles of lack.
Cycles of playing small.

You disrupt them every time you choose differently.
When you save instead of spend to impress.
When you speak instead of staying quiet for peace.
When you walk away instead of staying trapped.

For me, it looked like becoming a lawyer in a world where that wasn’t even on the radar. I grew up in a community where I never once saw a lawyer who looked like me. I didn’t know a single attorney personally. I had no idea how to get into law school, what the process was, or what to expect when I got there. Everything felt foreign like I was trying to crack into a system that wasn’t designed for me to enter.

And yet, here I am. Not because the path was clear, but because I chose to walk it anyway.

Generational curses don’t shatter in a single dramatic moment. They crumble in the everyday choices that feel lonely, misunderstood, and sometimes even selfish. But that’s the price of building a new foundation.

And while everyone else may not see it yet, the future will. The ones who come after you will live lighter because you carried the weight of being first. They’ll get to stand on the ground you fought to make solid.

Breaking barriers doesn’t look like a victory parade. It looks like courage in silence. But make no mistake, your disruption is history in motion.