Nobody sat you down and said, “Don’t tell people your business.”
Nobody had to.
You’re private. You’ve always been private.
If something needs to get done, you handle it.
You’d rather figure it out yourself than ask anybody for too much.
You take care of your people. That’s just who you are.
At least, that’s how it feels.
Most of us don’t experience these things as lessons. They feel like personality. Values. Maybe even the reason you’ve been able to build the life you have.
But somewhere along the way, you learned them.
You learned what being responsible looked like, and whose job it usually was.
You learned what stayed in the house and what could be said out loud.
You learned what “strong” meant.
You learned what people owe their family.
You learned whether asking for help was normal, or something you only did when there was truly no other option.
Nobody explained any of it. You were watching.
You Were Watching
Nobody explained any of it. You were watching.
You watched who got the phone call when something went wrong. Who sat at the kitchen table with the bills. Who got asked “Are you okay?” and who never did. What happened to the room when somebody brought up money. Whether any adult ever said, out loud, “I don’t know how to handle this.”
Long before you had words for family roles, money, success or vulnerability, you were taking notes.
And some of what you learned became so familiar that you stopped seeing it as learned at all.
It just became how life works.
I call these inherited rules. The rules nobody wrote down, that you’ve been following ever since.
The Family Rulebook
Some of those rules probably sound familiar.
Maybe good grades weren’t really celebrated in your house because doing well in school was just expected. A B wasn’t bad, but there was definitely going to be a conversation about why it wasn’t an A.
The rule: Doing well isn’t an achievement. It’s the baseline.
Maybe you knew better than to ask grown folks how much money they made. You didn’t know what the mortgage cost or how much was in anybody’s bank account. You just knew when something was “too expensive” and when somebody needed to turn those lights off because nobody was paying PG&E for the whole damn neighborhood.
The rule: Money is grown folks’ business.
Maybe family took care of family. If somebody needed somewhere to stay, they stayed. If somebody needed a ride, somebody picked them up. If your auntie needed something from the store, you were already grabbing your keys.
The rule: When family needs something, you show up. No questions asked.
Maybe nobody in your family was particularly emotional. People weren’t sitting around asking, “How did that make you feel?” But if your car broke down at two in the morning, somebody was coming to get you.
The rule: Love is something you do, not something you say.
Maybe you watched the women in your family keep everything moving. Dinner got made. Birthdays happened. People got where they needed to go. Somebody remembered what everybody needed. And even when she was tired, irritated, or had her own stuff going on, somehow it still got done.
The rule: The women make sure everything gets done.
Or maybe your family was completely different.
Maybe feelings were talked about. Maybe asking for help was normal. Maybe money was discussed openly. Maybe you watched people rest without apologizing for it. Maybe success was celebrated loudly and often.
Those families have rules too. They just sound different.
That’s the thing about inherited rules. We didn’t all inherit the same ones. But all of us inherited something.
The rules showed up in what happened over and over again.
What got praised.
What got side eyed.
What got talked about.
What absolutely did not.
What made somebody a “good” daughter, son, mother, father, husband, wife, or family member.
What made your family proud.
And what you knew better than to bring up at the dinner table.
You didn’t need anybody to hand you the rulebook.
You grew up in it.
And Some of It Worked
Here’s the thing: some of those rules worked.
Really well.
You learned that doing well was the baseline, so you did well. Then you did better. You got the degree, built the career, started the business, took the promotion, bought the house, or created whatever version of success mattered to you.
You learned to handle things, so you became somebody people could count on.
You learned that family shows up for family, so when somebody calls, you answer.
You watched the women keep everything moving, and at some point, you became one of the women who keeps everything moving.
You learned that love is something you do, so you do. You remember birthdays. You send the money. You make the reservation. You check in. You solve the problem. You make sure everybody gets home okay.
And you learned to keep certain things private, so people know what you want them to know. They know about the promotion. The trip. The new house. The thing you’re building.
None of that means the rules were bad.
Some of them made you disciplined.
Some made you dependable.
Some taught you how to love people.
Some gave you standards.
Some taught you how to get through hard things without falling apart.
Some of them may be part of the reason you’ve been able to build a life you’re genuinely proud of.
And that’s exactly why they’re hard to see.
When something has worked for you, you don’t stop to ask where it came from. You just keep following it.
The rules that are hardest to see are usually the ones that worked.
Even on the night you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, wondering what the hell you’re going to do, and nobody knows but you.
Some of them may be part of the reason you’ve been able to build a life you’re genuinely proud of.
When the Rule Starts Sounding Like You
That’s the part nobody sees. And it’s also the part that’s hardest to question, because by now the rule doesn’t sound like a rule anymore.
It sounds like you.
I’m just private.
I’m the responsible one.
I don’t like asking people for things.
I’d rather do it myself.
I’m the one everybody calls.
I’m just really independent.
And maybe all of that is true.
But sometimes “that’s just who I am” deserves a second look.
Because when you’ve been doing something long enough, you forget there were ever other options.
You don’t think, I’m following the rule that family takes care of family. You just send the money.
You don’t think, I’m following the rule that you don’t let people see you struggling. You just wait until you’ve figured everything out before you tell anybody there was a problem.
You don’t think, I’m following the rule that capable people handle their own shit. You just say “I’m good” and keep it moving.
You don’t think, I’m following the rule that love means anticipating what people need. You just notice what everybody needs, handle it, and maybe get a little irritated when nobody seems to notice what you need.
After a while, it’s hard to tell where the rule ends and you begin.
So here’s the question worth sitting with:
How much of “that’s just who I am” is actually you, and how much of it is what you learned to be?
After a while, it’s hard to tell where the rule ends and you begin.
How much of “that’s just who I am” is actually you, and how much of it is what you learned to be?
Find Your Rules
Don’t change anything yet.
Seriously.
For now, just start noticing the rules.
Listen for the things you say without thinking:
That’s what family does.
I would never ask somebody to do that for me.
You don’t tell everybody your business.
If I want it done right, I’ll do it myself.
I don’t need anybody worrying about me.
Of course I’m going to help. That’s my family.
Those little sentences can tell you a lot.
The next time you catch one, don’t immediately decide whether it’s good or bad. Don’t turn it into something you need to fix.
Just ask yourself:
Where did I learn that?
Who did I watch?
What happened in my family when somebody did the opposite?
What did everybody seem to understand without ever having to say it?
You might find a rule you absolutely still believe in.
You might find one you’ve never actually thought about.
You might even find one and realize, Wait… do I believe this, or have I just been following it for 30 years?
You don’t have to answer that yet.
First, you have to see the rule.
Because once you can see it, there’s another question waiting:
Does it still fit?
That’s where Issue 08 picks up.
Because not every rule needs to go. Some you’ll keep. Some you’ll adjust. Some work beautifully at the office and make a mess at home. And some you might value even more once you’ve really looked at them.
A Note From Geinel
Listen. Some of us learned some shit from our families.
Good, bad or somewhere in between, our families shape us. And a lot of what they taught us, they never actually taught us.
How many times did you hear, “Do what I say, not what I do”?
Ummm… how?
I am a boss ass bitch because I was surrounded by boss ass women.
I can’t count how many times I watched my grandma make it happen with literally no resources. Or my mom show up for me completely exhausted and still make sure I was good. Every time. I watched the women in my family work, graduate from college and level up, all while showing me you don’t have to come from wealth to create it. You don’t need a ton of resources to make shit happen. You have to be willing to learn and work hard.
That’s a rule I’m keeping.
But I also learned some things that haven’t always served me quite as well.
Keep going even when you’re exhausted. Figure it out yourself. Don’t show too much emotion. Excellence is expected, so don’t expect a parade for doing what you’re supposed to do.
Same women. Same lessons. Some of them built my life, and some of them I’m still deciding what to do with.
That’s why I don’t think the goal is to throw out what your family taught you. The goal is to see it clearly enough to choose.
So which rules made you who you are? And which ones have you been following your whole life without ever actually choosing them?
You get to decide what still works for you.
Until next time,
Geinel
The Rules You Choose
Not every rule needs to go. Some you’ll keep. Some you’ll adjust. Some work beautifully at the office and make a mess at home.
Once you can see the rule, there’s another question waiting: does it still fit?