“My Trauma Makes Me A Better Musician” and Other Truths from a Flute Teacher with PTSD

Trigger Warning: many types of trauma are discussed here, including assault, grooming, injuries, etc. While I do my best to keep this post above water in terms of the depth of the discussion of my own personal experiences, it is important to note that much is implied. Proceed with caution.

Hey there, friend. If you’re here, it’s probably because you’re a musician and maybe because you’ve experienced some trauma in your life and you’re wondering how that’s going to affect your musical skills or your ability to be a great teacher, musician, etc. I had a lot of these questions too, and I’m here to tell you all about my journey to realizing this one simple fact: my trauma makes me a better musician and teacher.

From childhood PTSD, being groomed, car accidents, and various types of abuse in my life all the way up to my college years where I experienced what I’ve dubbed “teacher trauma,” burnout, anger, and general distrust of the system that I fell in love with, I have stories galore that shaped me. There were many moments where I believed these stories would make me a less desirable teacher - someone who couldn’t relate or properly traumatize students the way that the classical music world taught me I needed to. I believed I “wasn’t cut out for it” and I “wasn’t mentally tough enough” for the job of being a professional musician and teacher, when the reality is that my trauma and my experiences were (in the background) helping to mold me into an empathetic musician and teacher - one that can spot emotional distress from a mile away and one that can make you feel something in a piece that may come across as static if performed by someone with less understanding of the emotions the composer was trying to convey.

Trauma can impact us in a modicum of ways - emotionally, physically, and creatively - and often we believe it has to hold us back, but it doesn’t. We can learn to grow with our trauma - like a tree snaking through obstacles and growing with them or even in spite of them, you can learn to grow with and around your trauma and make something beautiful out of it.

Source: All About Trees (https://allabouttrees.com/trees-can-grow-around-obstacles/)

So, in this article I’d like to explore how trauma can influence musical expression and teaching. I’d like to give you the tools to be an empowered and enlightened musician and teacher by harnessing those painful memories in your life, because having trauma does not mean that you aren’t cut out for this harsh world. On the contrary, it means that you have the tools to try and change it.

Understanding PTSD in a Musical Context

PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) at its core is a mental health disorder that brings strong emotions tied to traumatic events. Those suffering from PTSD may experience flashbacks, erratic or impulsive behavior, nightmares, intrusive or obsessive thoughts, difficulty concentrating, anger, extreme anxiety, and even destructive behaviors. It’s not always easy to nail down the exact symptoms as everyone experiences PTSD differently.

For me, I struggle with extreme anxiety, obsessive thoughts and negative self-talk, imposter syndrome, depressive episodes, and impulsive behavior (for me, it’s shopping… usually for sheet music 😳). For many years, I struggled with destructive behavior, but more on that later. I’ve had moments where I’ve questioned my validity and effectiveness as a teacher. I’ve wondered if parents and students believe I’m a fraud. were I’ve obsessed over my inability to play a specific run in my music or mistakes I’ve made while performing or (gasp!) while teaching.

PTSD also creeps into the body - causing tension across the neck, shoulders, spine, jaw, and fingers. It’s your body’s way of protecting you from a threat that, most of the time, isn’t there. So, it can cause issues in our playing when we aren’t aware of it.

It goes without saying that our emotional experiences are deeply tied to our musical expression. Personally, I find tapping into some of those more difficult moments, channelling my flashbacks, and building on those experiences through my music can help me convey more sorrow, melancholy, anger, rage, joy, and love. We simply cannot express ourselves musically without the experiences that shape us into the human’s we are. Spending years in the practice room without living life outside of it might make you a more technically proficient musician, but I would wager to say that the most musical musicians have lived, have hurt, and have trauma.

Trauma as a Catalyst for Creativity

Musically, my trauma is a catalyst for the feelings I wish to convey in my music. I like to consider the context of a piece - historical and lore alongside the composer themselves. What were they going through and how can I relate that to my own story?

Take Syrinx, for instance. Syrinx, depending on which version of the story you’re telling, can be quite dark. With themes of stalking, fear, assault, and dare I say mu*der, as with many Greek myths, there have to be several versions of the tale, several of which are more young-adult or kid friendly, however the overall premise is the same, and being able to tap into the emotions that Debussy is trying to convey is wildly helpful in creating a performance that your audience can feel those things happening in the story.

Difficult emotions such as grief, anger, jealousy, rage, the list goes on… can serve many of us as somewhat of an emotional library that we can pull from when we’re trying to convey emotions in a story written by someone else OR when we’re trying to write a story of our own. I truly believe that part of “making the best” of our wounds comes with sharing ourselves creatively as a result.

Take Beethoven, for instance, whose life was riddled with trauma from an alcoholic father who abused him physically and mentally, a love that never seemed to pan out, family discourse, and ensuing loss of his hearing (not that Deafness is a tragedy for most people, but in his mind, it very much was). Beethoven was a lonely and often miserable human who wrote incredibly rich and dramatic pieces of music, all of which will surely outlive any of us reading this article today. Drawing from his intense emotions and his traumatic life, he was able to write music that many of us can related to centuries later, and many of his most famous and most poignant works were composed as he was losing his hearing. I hypothesize that many of those works came from the frustration as well as the wide spectrum of emotions he must have encountered during that time in his life.

Teaching Through the Lens of Trauma

My experiences with trauma and PTSD have most certainly shaped my approach to teaching the flute. I know how I want my students to feel and I know how I certainly do not want them to feel. I understand how emotions and trauma can affect a student’s ability to tune in like normal, and I’ve made it my mission to be as informed as possible on how to approach students as they’re experiencing hardship.

My goal, as someone who has both experienced trauma and someone who teaches many students who have experienced trauma themselves, is to create a safe and loving space for students to express themselves authentically through music. I aim for my students to enjoy their time rather than feel pressured to achieve, achieve, achieve. And guess what? My students still continue to achieve even though they’re not being belittled and berated for “not practicing enough.” My goal as a teacher is to build trust so my students are comfortable making mistakes and being a human. With that comes boundaries. I work with my students to teach healthy student/teacher boundaries so that they can maintain those boundaries with other adults (and kids) through the duration of their lives. I work with my students to help them understand what healthy relationships look like in safe spaces because I believe it’s important to know for certain when something is “off.” Teaching students not just how to be a musician, but also how to be emotionally aware and healthy well-rounded humans is always going to be a priority. So, when students are feeling uneasy or upset, we pause. We work through a coping and regulating mechanism like tapping or coloring. We stretch and breathe together. We find ways to get back to homeostasis together.

Often, I ask students to reflect on how practice went in the week prior. I ask them to list 3 things that went well and 3 that could have gone better (notice how I don’t label things as “bad” but rather, “could be better”). Asking students to be curious and aware of what’s happening in their practice and playing is step 1. Then, I ask them to reflect on how they’re feeling - physically and emotionally. I give students the autonomy to take breaks when they need them, grabbing water or going to the restroom, pausing to stretch or rest as they need to. Asking students throughout lessons to reflect on the way they feel mentally and physically is a great way to build self-awareness. I make sure to build rapport in the sense that they feel empowered to be honest. Often, I’ll use the phrase “no wrong answer” before asking questions like these. For example:

• “No wrong answer. Are you feeling overwhelmed with your music today?”

• “No wrong answer. Did you get much of a chance to practice this week?”

• “No wrong answer. Do you like this piece of music?”

Never ever will a student be punished for being honest in my studio, even if the answer isn’t “what I want to hear,” because, quite frankly, we aren’t training people-pleasers here. I encourage students to get out of their comfort zone, of course, but I do so without pushing them to feel as though they don’t have a choice. Don’t want to play in the recital this month? No problem. Can we make a priority to play in the masterclass where it’s just other students next month? Great. Don’t feel like scales are inspiring you today? That’s fine! Can we spend some more time on long tones instead? Perfect. Creating a space where my students can be honest, authentic, and feel safe is the priority.

The Importance of Self-Care for Musicians with Trauma

I’ve said a lot of positivity-driven things about growing up with PTSD. I’ve discussed how it makes me a better musician and how it makes me a better teacher, but what I haven’t done is discuss some of the ways we have to take special care of ourselves as a result of our PTSD.

Let’s be very clear that “self-care” isn’t just this media-driven image of a person taking a bubble bath and drinking hot tea with her favorite book. While those things are wonderful and I highly recommend slowing down and participating in those types of activities, it’s important to remember that “self-care” is much deeper than that and it’s not always as pleasant as we like to believe.

Self-care can come in the form of journaling, mood tracking, taking a walk when we’re upset or angry, tapping, connecting with others (specifically about your experiences) including a therapist, a trusted friend or family member, or partner, etc. Personally, sharing my experiences with the world has been cathartic in that I don’t feel shame around what I’ve gone through, nor do I feel shame in the fact that I struggle with PTSD, but that strategy certainly isn’t for everyone. Finding a the correct combination of self-care methods that works for you is essential (and remember, taking prescribed medication IS self-care) and can help you cope through flashbacks and other PTSD episodes to help you move forward and channel your PTSD into something positive.

Of course, channeling these things into something positive is how we use it to our “advantage” in a musical career. However, it takes lots of mindfulness and self-reflection to be really aware of what our “superpowers” are. I’m hypervigilant about injuries in my students because of the injuries I’ve struggled with, therefore posture and hand position is what I consider to be one of my superpowers as a teacher, but I wouldn’t be able to channel that without some serious self-reflection. So, take some time to journal about your trauma and how you can turn it into a superpower in your playing and your teaching.

At then end of the day, it’s important to prioritize your mental health and wellbeing in your musical journey. Don’t forget that certain parts of this world can cause deep wounds, and as much as I (as well as several other colleagues of mine) are trying to change that narrative, the deep-cutting world of classical music is still alive and well, so protecting yourself is incredibly important. Take breaks, seek therapy, find hobbies outside of music, and don’t take part in the more toxic parts of the industry. Be a light in the darkness and inspire those around you with what you’ve gone through.

Building a Supportive Community

Building a community of musicians that understand and believe in a trauma-informed approach is critical to changing the culture of classical music. So, connecting with other musicians and teachers that understand trauma, have experienced trauma, and channel their trauma can be such a wonderful experience. Not only can other musicians share experiences and techniques for getting through tough times, but they can also be people to lean on when things get tough (because let’s be honest - the wounds of trauma never truly go away). Having people in your corner can help you be a better musician, teacher, and human.

As for building a supportive environment in your studio - ask questions, be curious, and never judge. Connect with your students on what they tell you, even if you cannot relate to it, because they need to learn not just to channel YOUR music and interpretations, but their own. They need to learn to manage and identify THEIR emotions, not yours. So, listening, listening, listening, and being vulnerable (appropriately so) about your own experiences can help you teach musical skills as well as create a safe space for your students to be authentic and be able to process their own lives through a musical lens.

If you’re struggling with PTSD in your own life or you know students that are, there are resources available to you:

• A qualified therapist (I recommend someone who specializes in EMDR, RRT, or Internal Family Systems) to work through things. There are many state programs that may be able to help you pay for therapy even if you don’t have insurance coverage.

• Books such as The Body Keeps Score, The Body Remembers, and of course books on Body Mapping and Alexander Technique

• Alexander Technique classes

• PTSD groups and group therapy

In closing,

Remember that while trauma shapes us, it doesn’t have to define us or limit our potential. As musicians and teachers, we can choose to transform our pain into a source of strength, empathy, and resilience. Embracing our experiences—both good and bad—allows us to connect with others on a deeper level, bringing authenticity and emotional richness to our art and teaching. Your journey, though it may be complex, can inspire others and make your music uniquely impactful. Let your story become a part of your artistry, allowing your past to fuel a compassionate, powerful future in music.