Rosalie

When people hear the word “trauma”, many of them picture victims who have survived terrible ordeals: war, abuse, neglect, terror. As a consequence, PTSD comes to mind.

The association is justified - there are many people (too many) who have suffered more than their share and are traumatized as a result.

But trauma, in addition to its obvious, large scale forms, can manifest in little ways, too.

Today, I read a story about a woman named Rosalie.

The narrator, whose name is Ben, met Rosalie at a multi-day conference, where they happened to be sitting next to each other. Ben is a young father, while Rosalie is a grandmother in her seventies.

Ben noticed Rosalie doodling on her conference program, and they got to talking about her little sketches.

It turned out that, when she was Ben’s age, she had dreamed of writing and illustrating children’s books. Full of excitement and drive, she had enrolled in an art course at her local college.

One day, near the end of the class, the instructor called for all the students to stop working, and he proceeded to analyze and critique each student’s work aloud, in front of the class.

Most people’s work was deemed acceptable, decent, or even quite good. When it came to Rosalie’s turn, however, the instructor didn’t just share his thoughts: he took her chalk and proceeded to “correct” her work.

Rosalie was ashamed and aghast. Out of the entire room of people, she was the only one whose work was so bad that it warranted direct manhandling by the teacher.

The teacher’s “demonstration” lasted less than a minute. But over 50 years later, Rosalie recounted the story as if it had happened just a week prior.

After that semester, Rosalie mostly stopped drawing and writing. She confined herself to being a devoted wife, mother, and eventually, grandmother.

Over the years, she would occasionally remember her longing to write and illustrate children’s books. She would start drafting a story, or she would sketch a little scene. But, inevitably, she would replay the scene from her art class and remind herself: I just don’t have it in me.

Rosalie would briefly indulge her dream of becoming a children’s book author just long enough to remember she could “never really do that”, no matter how exciting or appealing it seemed.

Of course, the truth is that drawing and writing are skills - and skills can be taught.

It’s fair to say that Rosalie would probably never change the course of art history or literature. But it’s also fair to say that Rosalie could have been a respectably-good children’s book author if she had continued to hone her skills.

Instead, long after her semester-long class had ended, Rosalie still clung to the identity and personality she had held at the time she had enrolled.

Rosalie had been traumatized. As an artist, a searing, emotionally-overwhelming moment had shut out rational thought and replaced it with the stubborn belief that she could only ever be what she already was.

And she held on to this belief despite growing in other ways - as a woman, a mother, a leader. Despite her significant experience and wisdom, Rosalie hadn’t grown as an artist.

Was it because she truly lacked “the right stuff”?

Of course not.

To grow a skill, all you need is consistency, sound methods, and reliable feedback. Guidance from a mentor can be helpful, but it’s not a make-or-break requirement for growth.

In Rosalie’s case, an otherwise-mundane moment had come to define much of what her life became - what it wasn’t.

Sadly, this kind of moment happens all too often. A careless look, a thoughtless word, and… snap! Someone else has been traumatized.

Rosalie’s story didn’t have to turn out this way.

If she had been able to share her experience with an empathetic witness, perhaps that person could point out other feasible explanations for what had happened. Maybe that person could have encouraged Rosalie to find a different, but related, way to learn to be an artist, or to find someone to partner with to create children’s books.

It’s a shame that Rosalie’s dreams went for so long without being nurtured.

But one of the fortunate things about trauma is that it’s never too late to be healed. The trick is, the healing must happen in the context of relationship with another human being.

That’s not to say a romantic relationship, or even a physically present person. Just a relationship, or at least, the idea of one.

By the end of the conference where Rosalie had struck up a friendly relationship with Ben, she had reconsidered the beliefs she had taken for granted about not having the innate ability to draw. (It helped that Ben has a Ph.D in Psychology).

Rosalie hadn’t yet committed to publishing a children’s book - but she agreed that the idea that she could never learn or grow as an artist beyond what she had been capable of in college simply didn’t line up with her experience. She had grown in lots of other ways - why not make use of the free time afforded by her retirement and develop skills that would allow her to do the things she had dreamt of doing for over 50 years?

…

It’s a hopeful place to end an emotional tale. Plus, there are so many morals to take home!

One is that traumas, big and small, color all of our lives. Knowing this, it can be a powerful thing to ask in what ways we’ve told ourselves “No”, long before the World could pass its judgement on us.

Another moral is that, as we said earlier, it’s never too late to find healing from trauma. Once the traumatizing moment is not in our present, we only have to accept that it’s within our power to experience the present reality, which is defined neither by the past that was nor the future that will be - it just is.

Lastly, we understand that healing always takes place in the context of human relationship. Maybe it’s confessing our self-doubt to a friend; maybe it’s admitting to a therapist that we could have done more. Maybe, it’s even writing a letter to someone who passed from this world long ago, or praying silently to Heaven above. Whatever the case may be, healing can only be effectively sought in connection with another.

Don’t underestimate the effect that traumas - even little ones - can have in your life. But, even more importantly, don’t underestimate the power you have to reframe those traumas and so redefine your present life and the life waiting for you in the future.