Hurt People Hurt People

I tell my kids this all the time.

It’s part of the emotional literacy we practice in our home:

no one is born cruel. No one is born needing to control, silence, or hurt others. Those are behaviors we learn—through fear, through pain, through trauma, through survival.

And unless we become conscious of them, we risk passing them on.
To our children.
To our communities.
To anyone vulnerable enough not to push back.

Hurt people hurt people.
Because it can feel safer to lash out than to feel our own pain.
Because rage gives us something to hold when grief feels too heavy.
Because controlling others can feel easier than facing our own shame.

But the cycle doesn’t stop with awareness, it stops with choice.

Lately, I’ve been sitting in the aftermath of a deeply painful rupture. The details don’t matter as much as the truth behind it: harm happened. And I had a choice to make.

Do I return pain for pain?
Do I harden?
Do I let myself believe that the only way to be heard is to shout louder?

I chose instead to stay rooted.
To speak with clarity, not cruelty.
To name the harm, and to protect my own heart from becoming hardened by it.

Because when hurt people hurt people, it’s often the already-hurting who suffer most.

And those same people go out and do the same.
And the pattern continues.
And it costs more than we realize.

That’s why I believe so deeply in this:
You can speak truth without destroying.
You can demand change without becoming what you’re fighting.
You can be angry and still choose integrity.

Hurt people hurt people. But emotionally literate people? We change things.

We take responsibility. We break cycles. We raise our kids differently.We lead differently. We heal both in public and in private, so the next person doesn't have to carry the same weight alone.

This is the kind of work we’re doing here at Honey—for ourselves, for our families, and for the kind of culture we want to be part of.

And if you’ve been walking through something hard, or are feeling raw and unseen, I hope this reminds you: you are not alone. Your pain is real. And you have options. You can choose differently.

Thank you for being part of a community where emotional honesty is honored, and where we’re learning, together, how to love without losing ourselves.

With love,
Brooke