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Breaking the Curse: A Memoir about Trauma, Healing, and Italian Witchcraft
A tour de force of narrative nonfiction, a reimagining of the self-help genre, and a brave memoir about mystical forces, trauma, trans life, addiction, and how we must heal ourselves to survive.
For readers of memoirs by Elliot Page ( Pageboy ) and Maia Kobabe ( Gender Queer ), and fans of writers like Carmen Maria Machado, Samantha Hunt, and Chavisa Woods.
In Breaking the Curse , Alex DiFrancesco takes their own crushing experiences of assault, addiction, and transphobic violence as the starting point for a journey to self-reclamation. Reeling in the aftermath of a rape that played out as painfully in public as in private, DiFrancesco begins to pursue spirituality in earnest, searching for an ancestral connection to magic as a form of protection and pathway to transformation. Propelled by a knowledge of the spiritual role of the transgender person in society, Alex winds through Cleveland and Brooklyn and Philly—from rehab and pagan AA meetings and friends’ spare mattresses to tarot readers and books about Italian witchcraft to daily ritual, prayer, altar-making, and folk tradition. In so doing, they begin to not only piece together a way to heal but also call into existence a life that finally feels worth living.
Breaking the Curse weaves spells, blasphemous novenas, and personal memories to imagine a new memoir form. Speaking about trauma does not always take its power away, DiFrancesco reminds us, but one can write their truth so that the hurt no longer fills the whole horizon.
For readers of memoirs by Elliot Page ( Pageboy ) and Maia Kobabe ( Gender Queer ), and fans of writers like Carmen Maria Machado, Samantha Hunt, and Chavisa Woods.
In Breaking the Curse , Alex DiFrancesco takes their own crushing experiences of assault, addiction, and transphobic violence as the starting point for a journey to self-reclamation. Reeling in the aftermath of a rape that played out as painfully in public as in private, DiFrancesco begins to pursue spirituality in earnest, searching for an ancestral connection to magic as a form of protection and pathway to transformation. Propelled by a knowledge of the spiritual role of the transgender person in society, Alex winds through Cleveland and Brooklyn and Philly—from rehab and pagan AA meetings and friends’ spare mattresses to tarot readers and books about Italian witchcraft to daily ritual, prayer, altar-making, and folk tradition. In so doing, they begin to not only piece together a way to heal but also call into existence a life that finally feels worth living.
Breaking the Curse weaves spells, blasphemous novenas, and personal memories to imagine a new memoir form. Speaking about trauma does not always take its power away, DiFrancesco reminds us, but one can write their truth so that the hurt no longer fills the whole horizon.
- GenresMemoirNonfictionLGBT
224 pages, Paperback
Published June 18, 2024
8 people are currently reading
214 people want to read
About the author
Alex DiFrancesco
8 books76 followersALEX DIFRANCESCO is a writer of fiction and nonfiction whose work has appeared in The Washington Post, Tin House, Brevity, and more. They are a 2017 winner of Sundress Academy for the Arts' OutSpoken Competition, and were a finalist in Cosmonauts Avenue’s Inaugural Nonfiction Prize. They have recently moved to Ohio, where they are still trying to wrap their head around “Sweetest Day.”
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
August 4, 2025
I first read this book thinking that I would relate to the experiences of the author and I would get something from it that way. I was a bit disappointed when I realized that it wasn't going to be the case, but by the end of my reading even if I couldn't relate to the specific circumstances that were described there, I still got something from the principal themes of not giving up on your battles and trying to connect with all the generations of people that were necessary to make you the person you are today.
December 10, 2024
As someone trans adjacent with Italian heritage and having gone through similar trauma, how could I not pick this up??
A really interesting format, seeing the author’s memory unfold and develop through the book was a unique take.
It’s hard to heal and it will never be linear, but this memoir proves that taking solace in something, ANYTHING, can save lives.
A really interesting format, seeing the author’s memory unfold and develop through the book was a unique take.
It’s hard to heal and it will never be linear, but this memoir proves that taking solace in something, ANYTHING, can save lives.
February 7, 2025
I picked this book up originally because I was intrigued by the application of Italian witchcraft in someone’s healing journey, how they connected and cultivated the practice. I’ll be honest. This book was hard to get through at times, but it did inspire me to get into tarot. Just waiting for someone to gift me a deck….
December 3, 2025
“Slowly, you begin to heal. As you heal, pieces of the past fall away. You don't forget them, maybe you will never forget them, maybe there is no such thing as ‘how to forget.’ But the things that hurt you no longer fill the whole horizon.”
Breaking the Curse is one of those memoirs that feels less like a retelling and more like an invocation. Alex DiFrancesco writes with a clarity that cuts straight to the bone, returning to the same painful memories until the shape of each one becomes unmistakable. Their prose is recursive in a way that mirrors trauma itself: details shift, deepen, and sharpen as they circle back, resulting in a narrative that feels alive in its vulnerability.
The book moves through Alex’s childhood, their early addictions, and the heavy caretaking duties placed on them long before they were ready. Tarot cards structure the memoir, opening with The Devil card, a fitting frame for a life shaped by abuse, misdiagnosis, and the slow erosion of self that occurs when you are told again and again that your pain is your fault. Their episodes of depersonalization and the years of being misread by the medical system will feel familiar to many survivors with complex PTSD. So will the ache of being blamed, dismissed, and punished for telling the truth.
One of the most affecting threads is Alex’s exploration of transness as a spiritual experience. They trace the fear of living as a trans person as they move through rural environments and hostile institutions, but they also describe the profound release that came with coming out at thirty. Their reflections on masculinity after sexual assault are some of the most devastating and necessary passages I have ever read.
Towards the end, the memoir moves into The Magician and The Sun cards as Alex turns toward magic. They build new rituals, reclaim ancestral Italian folk practices, and gather whatever spiritual tools still feel untainted by the violence they’ve survived. It becomes clear that magic is not a metaphor for them. It is a method of survival and a way of stitching a life back together when the world refuses to offer care.
As a fellow survivor, person with complex PTSD, and witch, I found this book astonishing. DiFrancesco writes with a haunted brilliance. Their story held me close and reminded me that even the most fractured selves can find a path toward something whole. Thank you, Alex!
📖 Read this if you love: raw, introspective queer memoirs; trauma narratives that refuse simplification and honor the messiness of survival; survivor stories about navigating anger, memory, and reclamation; or writing that sits at the crossroads of survival and self-reclamation.
🔑 Key Themes: Complex PTSD and non-linear healing, Ancestral magic and folk traditions, Addiction and recovery, Self-made magic, Trans masculinity and vulnerability, Healing as a practice rather than a destination.
Content / Trigger Warnings: Drug Abuse (moderate), Sexual Assault (severe), Drug Use (moderate), Emotional Abuse (minor), Mental Illness (severe), Suicidal Thoughts (severe), Pandemic (minor), Alcohol (moderate), Sexual Content (severe), Blood (minor), Child Abuse (minor), Transphobia (minor), Suicide (minor), Alcoholism (minor).
Breaking the Curse is one of those memoirs that feels less like a retelling and more like an invocation. Alex DiFrancesco writes with a clarity that cuts straight to the bone, returning to the same painful memories until the shape of each one becomes unmistakable. Their prose is recursive in a way that mirrors trauma itself: details shift, deepen, and sharpen as they circle back, resulting in a narrative that feels alive in its vulnerability.
The book moves through Alex’s childhood, their early addictions, and the heavy caretaking duties placed on them long before they were ready. Tarot cards structure the memoir, opening with The Devil card, a fitting frame for a life shaped by abuse, misdiagnosis, and the slow erosion of self that occurs when you are told again and again that your pain is your fault. Their episodes of depersonalization and the years of being misread by the medical system will feel familiar to many survivors with complex PTSD. So will the ache of being blamed, dismissed, and punished for telling the truth.
One of the most affecting threads is Alex’s exploration of transness as a spiritual experience. They trace the fear of living as a trans person as they move through rural environments and hostile institutions, but they also describe the profound release that came with coming out at thirty. Their reflections on masculinity after sexual assault are some of the most devastating and necessary passages I have ever read.
Towards the end, the memoir moves into The Magician and The Sun cards as Alex turns toward magic. They build new rituals, reclaim ancestral Italian folk practices, and gather whatever spiritual tools still feel untainted by the violence they’ve survived. It becomes clear that magic is not a metaphor for them. It is a method of survival and a way of stitching a life back together when the world refuses to offer care.
As a fellow survivor, person with complex PTSD, and witch, I found this book astonishing. DiFrancesco writes with a haunted brilliance. Their story held me close and reminded me that even the most fractured selves can find a path toward something whole. Thank you, Alex!
📖 Read this if you love: raw, introspective queer memoirs; trauma narratives that refuse simplification and honor the messiness of survival; survivor stories about navigating anger, memory, and reclamation; or writing that sits at the crossroads of survival and self-reclamation.
🔑 Key Themes: Complex PTSD and non-linear healing, Ancestral magic and folk traditions, Addiction and recovery, Self-made magic, Trans masculinity and vulnerability, Healing as a practice rather than a destination.
Content / Trigger Warnings: Drug Abuse (moderate), Sexual Assault (severe), Drug Use (moderate), Emotional Abuse (minor), Mental Illness (severe), Suicidal Thoughts (severe), Pandemic (minor), Alcohol (moderate), Sexual Content (severe), Blood (minor), Child Abuse (minor), Transphobia (minor), Suicide (minor), Alcoholism (minor).
June 15, 2024
June 2024 Seven Stories Press Selection.
Many times when one reads a memoir, there is an awareness that the writer is holding back and presenting a craft image. Most recently, this occurred when I read Patrick Stewart's memoir. Patrick Stewart seemed to be playing Patrick Stewart, if you know what I mean.
Alex DiFrancesco does not do that in their memoir. It is not a traditional memoir, it most is an almost abstract talk about addiction and trauma. The progression is non-linear, and, therefore, time jumps around a bit.
Yet, DiFrancesco grabs the reader from the first page and really doesn't let go. They present themselves as a flawed person (as everyone in the universe is) and do not present their struggles as either the first struggle of x type or that they are the first face x. DiFrancesco does not do this. It is their story, unique to them, told in in a unique way by them, but the story isn't any worse or better than the millions of other tragedies and sufferings that everyone faces. I don't mean to sound cold or unsympathetic, that's not what you leave with. DiFrancesco is simply telling you their story of trauma and addiction as well as their on going recovery. DiFrancesco notes that this is their path but it might not (and most likely will not be) the path of the reader in dealing with issues. This is actually rather refreshing. DiFrancesco includes blank space so if the reader desires they can journal about something that is under the same general umbrella as whatever they are relating in the chapter.
DiFrancesco is also not frightened to present themselves in ways that might be a bad light (in addition to talking about addiction). This warts and all approach is also evident towards the ending of the book with the story about what the DiFrancesco's grandmother said after DiFrancesco's birth. The emphasis on now giving birth to a son can either be taken, as DiFrancesco does, as bad ass Italian or as part of the cultural emphasis and desire for male children over children. Because DiFrancesco calls out (in a general way) others in the book, it is (or it can be) refreshing to see the same situation or issues in the writing. They are just like us.
I particularly found the alternate reality section to be moving and powerful.
The sad thing is that those who should read this book will not because of their transphobia.
Many times when one reads a memoir, there is an awareness that the writer is holding back and presenting a craft image. Most recently, this occurred when I read Patrick Stewart's memoir. Patrick Stewart seemed to be playing Patrick Stewart, if you know what I mean.
Alex DiFrancesco does not do that in their memoir. It is not a traditional memoir, it most is an almost abstract talk about addiction and trauma. The progression is non-linear, and, therefore, time jumps around a bit.
Yet, DiFrancesco grabs the reader from the first page and really doesn't let go. They present themselves as a flawed person (as everyone in the universe is) and do not present their struggles as either the first struggle of x type or that they are the first face x. DiFrancesco does not do this. It is their story, unique to them, told in in a unique way by them, but the story isn't any worse or better than the millions of other tragedies and sufferings that everyone faces. I don't mean to sound cold or unsympathetic, that's not what you leave with. DiFrancesco is simply telling you their story of trauma and addiction as well as their on going recovery. DiFrancesco notes that this is their path but it might not (and most likely will not be) the path of the reader in dealing with issues. This is actually rather refreshing. DiFrancesco includes blank space so if the reader desires they can journal about something that is under the same general umbrella as whatever they are relating in the chapter.
DiFrancesco is also not frightened to present themselves in ways that might be a bad light (in addition to talking about addiction). This warts and all approach is also evident towards the ending of the book with the story about what the DiFrancesco's grandmother said after DiFrancesco's birth. The emphasis on now giving birth to a son can either be taken, as DiFrancesco does, as bad ass Italian or as part of the cultural emphasis and desire for male children over children. Because DiFrancesco calls out (in a general way) others in the book, it is (or it can be) refreshing to see the same situation or issues in the writing. They are just like us.
I particularly found the alternate reality section to be moving and powerful.
The sad thing is that those who should read this book will not because of their transphobia.
September 21, 2024
This doesn’t read like a traditional memoir, but more like an honest discussion about addiction and trauma. DiFrancesco grabs your attention on the first page and holds it until the very end. I don’t know if I would call it a beautiful story, but the honesty they deliver makes it a different kind of beautiful.
I want to give Alex DiFrancesco a huge thank you for sending me a copy of their book!
I want to give Alex DiFrancesco a huge thank you for sending me a copy of their book!
July 24, 2024
This is a gorgeous memoir. It’s not necessarily a happy story, but it’s an honest and ultimately hopeful one that proves sometimes the only way out of a shitty situation is plowing through all the pain and bullshit to reach the other side. Plus, a little witchcraft never hurts.
TW: sexual assault, transphobia, mental health, drug use, emotional abuse
TW: sexual assault, transphobia, mental health, drug use, emotional abuse
July 22, 2024
Gorgeously written. Many of the metaphors and visuals are now stuck in my head and I welcome them. I was sucked in from the first page, and I appreciate the honesty and thoughtfulness of this book.
December 26, 2024
I didn't know I needed to read this book but am so glad I did.
July 21, 2025
Magical
January 1, 2025
Firat, i found that i loved the non-linear, train of thought style this memior is written in. The honest way she exposes herself and her struggles kept me enthralled. While I can't relate to the sexual assaults and rape it did make me think back on some of my unhealthy relationships. And realize how unhealthy they were. Bringing The magic and italian heritage into it made it more relatable for me. And now I am off to read one of her fiction books.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews