Writing about trauma presents inherent challenges that have defeated many well-intentioned authors. The material can overwhelm the reader, self-pity can masquerade as insight, and therapeutic process can substitute for genuine storytelling. However, J. Lauren Sangster’s “The Girl Who Flew Over the Honeysuckle Hedge” avoids these pitfalls through beautiful writing and an interesting look into therepeautical techniques for healing.
The memoir chronicles Sangster’s journey from childhood abuse through adult recovery, organized around the Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapeutic model. This isn’t simply a chronological account of events but a deliberate exploration of how trauma fragments identity and how those fragments can eventually be integrated into a functional whole. The clinical framework might sound dry, but Sangster employs it with enough skill to make the psychological concepts accessible without dumbing them down.
The book’s title derives from a dissociative episode Sangster experienced at age five following a traumatic experience. She describes the moment with clinical accuracy: “The tunnel in my head went completely black. Then, my mind lifted off the ground, over the honeysuckle hedge, and began to soar high in the warm blue sky above the trees… I was flying! I was above the trees!” This out-of-body experience becomes both literal description and central metaphor for the ways trauma survivors learn to escape hard times.
What makes Sangster’s approach effective is her use of IFS therapy not just as healing method but as narrative device. She personifies different aspects of her psyche—the “Injured Five Part,” the “Injured Teenage Part”—and engages them in dialogue throughout the book. This could easily become gimmicky, but Sangster handles it with enough restraint to make these conversations genuinely illuminating rather than merely therapeutic.
The family dynamics she describes are harrowing without being exploitative. Her father emerges as an unpredictable figure whose violence culminates in a particularly difficult to read part. Sangster’s account of processing this trauma as a seven-year-old demonstrates her understanding of how memory works under extreme stress: “I sobbed when I finally understood why her belly didn’t ho-ho-ho earlier on our front porch… I cried like a baby longing for her mother.” It’s hard for an adult writer to recreate a child’s innocence but Sangster does it vividly.
Throughout the memoir, Sangster includes letters to her younger selves, a technique that could feel contrived but works because of her straightforward tone. After describing an accident that injured her sister, she writes to her five-year-old self: “I’m sorry you suffered so much pain that day…You are safe.” These passages demonstrate the re-parenting process central to IFS therapy while avoiding sentimentality.
Sangster structures the narrative with “Self-Care Moments”—brief interludes that provide relief from intense material. One involves purchasing a pewter peace dove at a street fair. The book’s conclusion embraces what Sangster calls “the philosophy of Wabi Sabi”—finding beauty in imperfection and impermanence. “My intention is that I accept the beauty in the scars that tell my story,” she writes, “and appreciate the impermanence of life.”
Overall, “The Girl Who Flew Over the Honeysuckle Hedge” is a difficult but worthy read that will obviously appeal most to trauma survivors and those interested in psychology and the therapeutic process. It’s gripping in its own way with its clear, understated writing and thoughtful approach make it accessible to general readers seeking to understand how people recover from severe psychological injury. It’s a useful book rather than simply a beautiful one, though it manages to be both at the same time.
The memoir’s ultimate positive message is that severe trauma doesn’t have to define a life permanently. The girl who flew over the honeysuckle hedge doesn’t disappear; she becomes part of a more complete person by the end of the book. That’s a practical form of healing, and Sangster has documented it with skill and honesty. It’s the kind of book that will prove helpful to readers facing their own recovery challenges while remaining engaging enough for those who aren’t.
You can get your copy of “The Girl Who Flew Over the Honeysuckle Hedge” here!
