Growing up with parents who "powered through" instead of processing their emotions, many of us inherited their unacknowledged stress in ways that shaped our nervous systems and created patterns we're only now beginning to recognize.
"You kids are just too sensitive nowadays. We never had all this anxiety and depression back then."
I heard this exact phrase from a family friend last Thanksgiving, and it got me thinking. Sure, previous generations might not have labeled their struggles as anxiety or depression, but that doesn't mean the stress wasn't there.
In fact, many of us who grew up with Boomer parents are walking proof that unprocessed emotions don't just disappear. They get passed down like family heirlooms nobody asked for.
My parents, like many of their generation, believed in powering through. My mother was a teacher, my father an engineer, and both emphasized education above all else.
Feelings? Those were luxuries you dealt with in private, if at all. But here's what they didn't realize: Their unacknowledged stress didn't vanish into thin air. It settled into our bones, shaped our nervous systems, and became the baseline for how we experience the world.
If you're wondering whether you might be carrying some of this inherited stress, here are eight signs that often show up in children of the "we didn't have anxiety" generation.
1) You're a chronic overachiever who never feels good enough
Remember being praised for being "mature for your age" or "so responsible"? Yeah, that wasn't entirely a compliment.
Many of us learned early that our worth was tied to our achievements. I was labeled "gifted" in elementary school, which created pressure to be perfect that followed me well into adulthood.
The thing is, when parents suppress their own anxieties about success and stability, they often project those fears onto their kids through impossibly high standards. We internalize the message that we need to constantly prove ourselves, achieve more, and never, ever fail.
The result? A generation of adults who have impressive resumes but can't shake the feeling that we're one mistake away from losing everything.
2) You struggle with perfectionism that borders on paralysis
How many projects have you started but never finished because they weren't "perfect" yet? How many opportunities have you passed up because you weren't "ready" enough?
This kind of perfectionism often stems from growing up in households where mistakes weren't just errors, they were moral failings.
When parents can't acknowledge their own imperfections due to their own unprocessed anxiety, they create an environment where being human feels dangerous.
We learned to hide our flaws, overcompensate with perfection, and freeze when we can't guarantee a flawless outcome.
3) You have difficulty identifying and expressing emotions
Ask someone raised by emotionally suppressed parents how they're feeling, and you might get a blank stare or a quick "fine." We became experts at intellectualizing feelings rather than actually feeling them.
Growing up, emotions were often treated as inconveniences or weaknesses. Crying was met with "stop being so dramatic," and anger was "disrespectful." We learned to shut down, disconnect, and present a calm exterior no matter what chaos was happening inside.
The cost? Many of us now struggle with emotional intimacy and authentic self-expression.
4) You're hypervigilant and always waiting for the other shoe to drop
Does good news make you suspicious? Do you find yourself mentally preparing for worst-case scenarios even when everything is going well?
This hypervigilance often develops when we grow up sensing our parents' underlying anxiety without it ever being acknowledged.
We became little emotional detectives, constantly scanning for signs of trouble, trying to prevent the unnamed disasters our parents seemed to be perpetually bracing against.
Now, as adults, our nervous systems are stuck in threat-detection mode.
5) You have an overwhelming need for control
I discovered that my need for control stemmed from childhood anxiety about my parents' approval. When you grow up in an environment where emotional unpredictability lurks beneath a calm surface, control becomes your safety net.
Maybe you need to plan every detail of a trip, or you get anxious when meetings don't have clear agendas. This isn't just being "type A." It's a coping mechanism developed in response to the chaotic undercurrents of suppressed family stress.
When emotions are unpredictable and unexpressed, controlling external circumstances feels like the only way to create safety.
6) You struggle with boundaries and saying no
Were you the family peacekeeper? The one who sensed tension and tried to smooth things over before they exploded?
Children of emotionally constrained parents often become emotional caretakers, learning to prioritize others' comfort over their own needs. We developed finely tuned radar for other people's moods and became skilled at managing them.
The problem? We never learned that other people's emotions aren't our responsibility, and saying no doesn't make us bad people.
7) You experience physical symptoms of stress without obvious causes
Chronic headaches, digestive issues, muscle tension, insomnia. Sound familiar? When emotional expression is discouraged, stress doesn't just disappear. It shows up in the body.
Many of us learned to ignore emotional signals so thoroughly that our bodies had to scream to get our attention. That tension in your shoulders?
It might be carrying years of unexpressed frustration. Those stomach issues? Could be anxiety that was never given permission to exist. Our bodies keep the score, even when our minds have been trained to ignore the game.
8) You feel guilty for having mental health struggles
"What do you have to be depressed about? You have it so much better than we did."
If you've heard some version of this, you know the unique shame that comes with struggling despite having "no good reason."
This guilt often prevents us from seeking help, creating a vicious cycle where we suffer in silence just like our parents did, but with the added burden of feeling like we're weak for not being able to handle it.
Breaking the cycle
Recognizing these patterns was just the beginning for me. The real work came when I had honest conversations with my parents about mental health, breaking generational silence that had persisted for decades.
It wasn't easy. There was resistance, misunderstanding, and more than a few uncomfortable dinners.
But something beautiful happened. When I started naming my anxiety and the coping mechanisms I was learning, my parents began recognizing their own patterns.
My mother admitted she'd been anxious her entire teaching career but thought it was "just stress." My father acknowledged that his need for everything to be logical and ordered might have been his way of managing overwhelming feelings.
Dealt with anxiety throughout my career but learned healthy coping mechanisms, and sharing those tools opened doors we didn't know existed.
We're still learning, still growing, and still occasionally stepping on each other's emotional landmines. But at least now we can name them.
The truth is, our parents did the best they could with the tools they had. Their generation was taught to soldier on, to not burden others with their problems, to keep a stiff upper lip.
They raised us the only way they knew how, passing down both their strengths and their unhealed wounds.
Understanding this doesn't excuse the impact, but it does offer a path forward.
We can acknowledge the stress we've inherited while also choosing to process it differently.
We can thank our parents for their resilience while also making space for our vulnerability. We can break cycles that have persisted for generations, not through blame, but through brave, honest healing.
Because maybe, just maybe, when we stop pretending we're fine, we give everyone permission to finally admit they're not fine either. And that's where real healing begins.
