The Primacy of Emotion
“Go the fuck to therapy and work on your fucking trauma so you don’t become the monster that traumatized you in the first place.”
This is not hyperbole. It’s a plea, sharp as a knife, cutting through the polite indifference we wrap around the truths we can’t face. Trauma doesn’t excuse the harm we cause, but it explains the patterns we repeat unless we fight like hell to break them.
Ariel Fisher’s candid reflections make it clear: trauma isn’t an identity, and it isn’t an excuse. But it is real, and it demands to be addressed. If we don’t, it consumes us—individually and collectively—leaving us with nothing but the remnants of our own damage.
The Monsters We Become
Trauma is an invisible hand shaping our lives in ways we often fail to see until it’s too late. It whispers in the back of our minds, dictating our choices, our relationships, our creative work, and our leadership styles.
The monsters we fear most are often the ones that live within us. The artist whose work you once adored can suddenly disgust you when you see their humanity’s ugliest facets. The leader you once followed with admiration can betray the very ideals they claimed to uphold. And what’s worse, when we fail to deal with our own traumas, we risk becoming that very monster ourselves.
Part 1: Trauma as Explanation, Not Excuse
The Loop of Harm
Gabor Maté’s work reveals a painful truth: trauma is not just a scar; it’s a wound that festers unless tended to. When we don’t confront our pain, we risk passing it on—turning the harm we endured into the harm we inflict.
But here’s the thing: trauma can explain a cycle of violence, manipulation, or neglect without justifying it. It’s the difference between asking “Why did this happen?” and saying “This makes it okay.” If we’re unwilling to treat our trauma seriously, we’re doomed to hide behind it, justifying the indefensible.
Trauma in Action
Think of the stories unraveling around public figures like Neil Gaiman. The revelations are painful, disillusioning, and, for many, a line in the sand. The temptation to separate the art from the artist feels hollow when the pain behind the persona reveals itself. How do we reckon with that pain without letting it excuse the harm caused?
The answer starts with honesty. Trauma is not an excuse to hurt others, but acknowledging it is the only way to understand how cycles of harm are perpetuated. For every artist or leader who falls from grace, there’s a stark reminder: deal with your shit, or it will deal with you.
Part 2: The Emotional Core of Transformation
Why We Need Therapy
“Go to therapy.” It’s become a modern mantra, repeated so often it risks losing its power. But let’s be clear: therapy isn’t about self-care as a buzzword or ticking a box. It’s about doing the hardest work imaginable, confronting the ugliest parts of yourself before they devour you and the people around you.
Therapy provides the tools to break the cycles trauma creates. It helps us name the emotions we’ve buried, understand the patterns we’ve repeated, and take responsibility for our actions. Without it, we’re left blind to the ways we replicate the harm we’ve endured.
Access and Accountability
Fisher’s reflections don’t ignore the systemic barriers to therapy. Access is a privilege many don’t have, and this is a battle we must fight at a societal level. But recognizing this shouldn’t deter us from the personal work.
For those who can access therapy, the responsibility is clear. And for those who can’t, there’s an urgent need to advocate for broader mental health support systems. Trauma is a universal reality, but healing must become a universal right.
Part 3: The Role of Trauma in Art and Leadership
Art as a Mirror
Art is often a reflection of the artist’s inner world. This is why it resonates so deeply and why it cuts so painfully when the truth behind the work reveals itself to be stained. As Fisher highlights, trauma cannot become an identity we hide behind. The best art comes not from denying trauma but from confronting it and channeling it into something transformative.
Think of the most compelling stories, the most unforgettable performances, the music that brings tears to your eyes. What makes them so powerful? Emotion. Honesty. Vulnerability. But if the artist hasn’t reckoned with their own darkness, that raw emotion can sour, turning the mirror they hold up to society into a smokescreen for their harm.
Leadership Without Harm
Leaders, too, are shaped by their trauma. But the best leaders are those who confront it, refusing to let it dictate their decisions. The principles of strategic mindfulness emphasize the importance of awareness, of understanding the emotional undercurrents that drive behaviour, and shaping them into forces for good​​.
When leaders fail to address their trauma, it manifests in ways that harm their teams and organizations. Micromanagement, manipulation, and authoritarianism are often the products of unprocessed fear. Leaders who do the work, however, can transform their trauma into empathy, resilience, and authentic connection.
Part 4: The Call to Action
Do the Work
If you’ve been waiting for permission to face your trauma, consider this your sign. Go to therapy. Not later. Not when things settle down. Now. You owe it to yourself, to the people you love, and to the world around you.
Break the Cycle
Healing doesn’t end with you. When you do the work, you stop the ripple effect of harm. You teach your children, your team, your audience, or your community that pain doesn’t have to be passed down.
Demand Access for All
Healing is a human right, and until mental health care is accessible to everyone, we are failing as a society. Ariel Fisher’s reminder that access is a privilege must push us to fight for systemic change while we confront our personal battles.
Facing the Monsters in the Mirror
Trauma doesn’t excuse the harm we cause, but it does help us understand it. When we face it head-on—whether through therapy, storytelling, or leadership—we stop the cycle. We stop the monsters we fear from becoming the monsters we are.
Neil Gaiman is an author that was deeply influential in my early reading. This question of art and artist is personal for me. And it’s not easy. I have my own trauma. My own monsters. External, and internal. I have spent 30 years in therapy, and I still don’t have it figured out. But I’m working at it. Every day.
This isn’t easy work. It’s brutal. It’s unrelenting. But it’s necessary. Because the only way out of trauma is through it, and the only way through it is to face it, no matter how painful or terrifying that might be.
So go. Go the fuck to therapy. Heal. Create. Lead. And don’t stop until the cycles of harm are broken—for you, and for everyone you touch.
You are not exempt; no one is.
Thank you Ariel.
B
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B
Trauma isn’t an identity. It isn’t an excuse. But it is real—and if you don’t deal with it, it will deal with you. Go to therapy. Heal. Break the cycle. Don’t let the monster you fear become the monster you are.
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