My Grandma’s toes were crooked. She used to say she was born this way, but it was surely the shoes: too small when she was a poor immigrant, too tight when she could afford heels. My Mom’s were less so, she only had bunions whose operations incapacitated a couple of toes. Mine started out on that path too, but I traded the self-inflicted trauma of small shoes and high heels for Birkenstock, a sight I now inflict upon others.
So it goes for more serious traumas. How you treat yourself passes down generations, explicitly or implicitly. Mothers who are hopeful for the future somehow raise children who treat themselves better than the previous generation did.