By: Vivien Kalvaria
There’s a long-standing myth in trauma-affected families that “time heals.” But untreated trauma doesn’t dissipate—it embeds itself in body language, tone, and relational patterns. Therapy challenges that myth. It doesn’t erase history, but it creates space to name it, process it, and break its compulsive repetition.
In my experience writing My Name Is Not Rifka, I came to understand how critical therapeutic intervention can be—not just for survivors, but for those raised in their psychological wake. Telling Rifka’s story forced me to confront my own anger, confusion, and pain. Why had she tried to sabotage my marriage to her son? Why had her love felt so conditional? These were not simply personal grievances. They were echoes of survival patterns, magnified through decades of unprocessed trauma. A trauma-informed therapist helped me contextualize her behavior without diminishing the damage it caused. That re-framing became an act of compassion—one I couldn’t have reached on my own.
Empirical research reinforces what many of us have lived: therapy works. Studies on families in post-conflict zones—such as Rwanda, Bosnia, and Afghanistan—demonstrate the effectiveness of trauma-focused cognitive behavioral therapy (TF-CBT), group therapy, and narrative exposure therapy in reducing PTSD symptoms and improving relational dynamics (Jordans et al., 2016).
In Israel, programs supporting children of Holocaust survivors have shown that even late-life therapeutic interventions can help reconcile inherited emotional burdens. Similarly, organizations like AMCHA offer support groups and individual therapy tailored to the second and third generations, validating that trauma’s legacy need not be a life sentence.
Therapy also helps interrupt the parent-child transmission of fear and shame. By creating a space where the trauma can be externalized and examined, rather than absorbed and reenacted, families can begin to build new relational templates—ones based on trust, vulnerability, and emotional literacy.
Yet many war-affected families avoid therapy. Survivors may mistrust mental health systems, view psychological struggle as weakness, or fear the emotional unraveling that might follow disclosure. Cultural stigma compounds the resistance. In Rifka’s case, therapy wasn’t even part of the postwar vocabulary. “You survived. You carried on. What more was there to say?”
But the cost of untreated trauma is cumulative. It doesn’t just shape individuals—it alters generational ecosystems. Children may grow up with overprotective or emotionally distant parents. They may inherit a deep ambivalence about their own worth, or feel guilty for living in comfort while their parents suffered. Left unspoken, this legacy can calcify into identity.
The October 7 attacks in Israel and the broader violence facing communities globally remind us that trauma continues to be a present-tense phenomenon. But our approach to healing has evolved. We now understand the importance of early intervention, culturally sensitive mental health care, and intergenerational support.
For war-affected families, therapy is not just a remedy—it is a form of moral repair. It allows children to understand their parents not only as survivors, but as people shaped by unbearable experiences. It offers survivors a place to reassemble shattered narratives. And it gives families a way to honor their history without being bound by it.
War leaves behind more than ruins—it leaves behind silence, fear, and patterns of protection that can stifle love. Therapy offers an alternative inheritance: insight, empathy, and a chance to choose differently. In telling Rifka’s story—and confronting my own—I have come to believe that healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It means breaking the cycle, so that pain is remembered, but no longer passed down.
References
- Danieli, Y. (1998). International Handbook of Multigenerational Legacies of Trauma. Springer.
- Hirsch, M. (2008). “The Generation of Postmemory.” Poetics Today, 29(1), 103–128.
Jordans, M. J., Komproe, I. H., Tol, W. A., Kohrt, B. A., Luitel, N. P., Macy, R. D., & de Jong, J. T. V. M. (2016). Practice-driven evaluation of a multi-layered psychosocial care package for children in areas of armed conflict. Community Mental Health Journal, 52(2), 186–197.