Reading Trauma Responsibly: Why Understanding a Character’s Pain Isn’t the Same as Excusing Them

ayawinterromances
Nov 6, 2025
3 min read

There’s a moment that happens in almost every fandom:A character does something selfish, angry, or cruel — and someone says,

“But they’ve been through so much.”And someone else fires back, “Trauma isn’t an excuse.”

They’re both right. They’re both wrong. And most importantly, they’re talking past each other.

As readers and writers, we need a better framework for engaging with trauma in fiction — one that allows for compassionate interpretation without erasing accountability, and that makes space for nuance… even when we don’t like the character.

The Problem: We’re Reading Trauma Through a Moral Lens

In modern reader spaces — especially online — there’s a trend toward moral absolutism. Characters are judged as “good” or “bad” based on how closely they align with reader values. And trauma often becomes a battleground:

If we dislike a character: “Their trauma doesn’t excuse their actions.”
If we like them: “They’re just reacting to trauma — give them grace.”

But fiction isn’t a morality test, and trauma isn’t a get-out-of-criticism-free card.

The issue isn’t whether trauma justifies behaviour. The real question is:

“Does the story understand the character’s trauma — and what is it trying to say about it?”

🧠 Interpreting Trauma vs. Excusing Behaviour

There’s a difference between:

Understanding why a character acts a certain way
Saying that behavior is acceptable or consequence-free

You can say:

“Nesta lashes out because she’s drowning in grief and shame.” AND “Nesta also causes real harm and has to take responsibility for it.”

You can hold both without contradiction. That’s the heart of real narrative complexity.

Interpreting trauma doesn’t mean liking the character. It means engaging with the emotional reality the story is building — whether that character is your favourite or not.

Why Trauma Needs to Be Handled with Care — Even in Reader Spaces

We don’t know what people bring with them when they read. Many readers see their own pain in characters who act out, isolate, dissociate, or lash out. To immediately flatten that into:

“They’re toxic. They should’ve known better.”…isn’t critical thinking. It’s erasure.

When we dismiss trauma responses as just “bad behaviour,” we miss the entire point of many redemption arcs, healing stories, and recovery-centred romances.

That doesn’t mean every character deserves forgiveness. But it does mean every story deserves to be read with care.

What Responsible Reading Looks Like

Separate Character Behaviour from Narrative Message Just because a character does something awful doesn’t mean the book is endorsing it. Look at how the story frames consequences, reactions, and growth.
Make Room for Empathy — Without Requiring Affection You don’t have to like a character to understand them. Empathy is an interpretive tool, not a fan badge.
Acknowledge Reader Projection — Including Your Own We bring our histories to what we read. That’s part of the beauty of fiction. But unchecked projection can lead to distorted interpretation. Ask:

“Am I responding to the character — or to something they’re triggering in me?”

Critique Behavior, Not Existence There’s a big difference between saying “This character made bad choices” and “This character is irredeemable garbage.” One engages with story. The other ends the conversation.

Why This Matters in Romance and Healing-Focused Fiction

Romance — especially fantasy and emotionally character-driven romance — often centres characters who are already broken when we meet them. They're traumatized, angry, lost, or numb. Their arc is the healing.

If we don’t allow space for:

Ugly coping mechanisms
Flawed responses to grief or abuse
Characters who grow slowly (and imperfectly)

…then we shut the door on the very emotional truths that make romance matter.

Think of:

Nesta Archeron — all thorns and fire, shoving love away until she believes she deserves it.
Kaz Brekker — brilliant but broken, choosing vengeance over vulnerability until the pain becomes too heavy.
Zuko (ATLA) — who made terrible, selfish choices, but clawed his way to redemption through accountability and change.

None of these arcs work without understanding trauma. None of them say “trauma is an excuse.” They say, “Trauma is real — and healing is hard — and people can still choose better.”