Sassafras: A memoir of love, loss and MDMA therapy

by Rebecca Huntley

When you know that you need help but conventional means have failed you, what is left is the unexpected.

MDMA is a drug made from the oil of the root of the sassafras tree. It is known as a party drug, taken by people who want to have a good time, to dance, to shed their inhibitions.

It has also, since early 2023, been authorised in Australia for use in treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder that has not responded to treatment. For those with PTSD, the goal is not to have a good time and it is to come back to themselves. To the person they were before they were traumatised.

Around the same time, renowned author and social researcher Rebecca Huntley experienced her first of three illegal MDMA sessions, delivered by an underground healer from the Northern Rivers district of New South Wales. Rebecca wanted to stop the crushing cycle of intergenerational trauma not just for herself but for her children.

This treatment would do nothing less than change her life, impacting her personal and professional views of the world, the way she saw the past, present and future. It helped Rebecca see herself and the world around her with greater wisdom, compassion and awareness of the connections between humans and the natural world.

Sassafras is the story of a woman determined to confront her traumatic past head on. In doing so she discovered something that could be of great benefit to us all.

Genres: Memoir, Psychology, Nonfiction

218 pages, Kindle Edition

Published August 28, 2024

Reviews

[Len · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book read well and I happily escaped into it.
The issue I have is that I feel her inheritance of the trust money, which was enough to buy a large home in the Eastern suburbs of Sydney, was the thing that saved her, else she’d still be a stressed out and desperate woman.
How would this book have been if she didn’t come from Australia’s elite and have their money to cast a golden net underneath her?
So in that aspect, I feel shut out from this book and in turn disillusioned as I feel the MDMA really wasn’t the saving grace but the inheritance was.
As someone with CPTSD this didn’t make me feel I need MDMA to cure me. In fact, it rather put me off which is actually good as living in rented accommodation and not having a golden net to catch me puts me at risk of a bad experience with MDMA therapy, as the book describes.
I am happy we are exploring other options to help heal people’s trauma but with a capitalist society around us that only makes the wealthy feel secure, it all seems as useful as a fart in a spacesuit.

[Hutch Hussein · Rating 5 out of 5]

Compelling and sad tale of having to parent and then process living with and then extracting yourself from dysfunctional parents. The book is vulnerability personified from someone is a public figure with a Dad who was revered. And fascinating insights into MDMA therapy as a way of dealing with trauma influenced parenting.

It’s also so fantastically and bravely written with some absolute pearler lines - my faves being:

* Rebecca’s Mum’s comment in the first few chapters about her Dad: “He is the child, so you need to be the grown up”!!!

* Funniest line toss up between: “Martha Stewart’s was silent on the issue” of what to feed your therapist for an all day session! AND the nurse laughing when she responds to “Who’s the PM? with “That m**f**r!” who she understands is ScoMo.

* Most graceful in one of her last sentences: “No one has children in order to fuck them up” as by god her parents were pieces of work.

Rebecca shows how you can let go of that trauma with understanding and compassion that I didn’t have much of her for her parents by the end. So gripping I couldn’t put it down at times. One of those books you’ll sneak a read of morning and night.

Declaration that Rebecca has been a friend of mine for nearly 30 years and I was fortunate to read an advance copy of this.

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was an easy read, I was surprised how quickly I finished it. The author is as vulnerable and aware as she can be, sharing her experience with an outlawed drug to explore trauma.
It’s difficult to write a review on the book itself without being influenced by the political nature of the content - with themes of privilege, wealth and illegal drug use to contend with.
The writing around different experiences was good, it was well paced as it took us through some formative childhood memories, the therapeutic healing sessions and the recent behaviours of family members. But at the end of the book, I didn’t find a greater meaning or inspiration for all of it. As someone that truly believes in the power of earths medicines to help us heal our minds and process hurt thought patterns, I didn’t see this emerge as a strong theme in this novel. It is a near difficult thing to articulate a drug experience into words that are logical and meaningful to others, when the whole event takes place within a tangle of thoughts and feelings. While I appreciate the attempt and bravery to frame it in a way to make it accessible to others interested, I feel it missed the mark a little - especially when the ending focussed on cutting off contact with her mother (who was traumatised in her own right) rather than exploring ways to grow and set healthy boundaries in that relationship. Another review also raised a very valid point, that an inheritance that allowed her to purchase a million dollar home in Sydney’s upper suburbs seemed to be more of a stress relief than the MDMA experience. It’s easy to look up to the wealthy and judge, I’ll admit that. But when they can’t eat their money, how can we all deal with trauma without the aids of wealth and security?

[Caro P · Rating 2 out of 5]

The writing was good but as a memoir this one sadly missed the mark for me.

The book goes to great lengths to describe the author’s experience of what can only be described as rich white lady problems. I feel offended for anyone reading this who has suffered serious trauma like war, rape, poverty, asylum. Whilst she acknowledges her privilege she somehow still writes with a lack of self-awareness of this.

I found her voice untrustworthy in describing her family relationships. She contorts herself into being the good person in any misunderstanding and over-explains her behaviour as if she is trying to get her side of the story across, often without success. Yes, I am sure her parents said and did some awful stuff, but I am sceptical about fully believing her version of her behaviour in response to this.

Sadly, I don’t buy her suggestion that MDMA can bring world peace. That was not even the turning point in her own life. Her life got better when she received a massive inheritance, gained financial security and bought herself a comfortable home in a nice location. She rightly says that security and stability are prerequisites to having MDMA therapy. The thing is, providing traumatised people with a secure, stable home is probably going to do a whole lot more for them than this therapy is.

[Sarah Eagle · Rating 2 out of 5]

I want to be clear: I don’t want to dismiss the author’s pain or growth. I’m glad she feels better now. The first three hours of the audiobook felt promising. As a white woman with my own privilege and a violent, sadistic mother, I came to this book hoping to learn more about healing childhood trauma, especially through MDMA-assisted therapy.

But the further I listened, the angrier I got.

The author does mention rent stress, but this sits alongside the reality of a trust fund, a large inheritance, and eventually buying a million dollar “forever home” in wealthy suburban Sydney. That level of financial backing profoundly shapes what safety feels like, but the book doesn’t fully acknowledge it. It treats the financial piece almost as background, not as central to the healing.

MDMA might have brought warmth, connection, insight. But it didn’t create long-term safety. Money did. A home did.

For those of us who also grew up in terror, safety isn’t just a feeling. It is often a bank balance. No amount of psychedelic insight can replace stable housing or financial security, and this book sidesteps that truth.

I finished it wondering: without the house, without the inheritance, would MDMA have felt the same?

[Kay Crowley · Rating 1 out of 5]

Cannot believe that this book got published….seriously, we did it for Bookclub and unanimously agreed that this woman was a nut job.

The MDMA bits were fascinating but only took up a tiny bit of the book, maybe 10%, I haven’t counted but certainly less than 20% of the book.

The bit that made us angriest of all was the opening gambit? Words to the effect of _“I don’t want you to think of this as another moan by a privileged white girl”_…… OK, well here’s an idea… don’t write your stupid book and expect hard working people to spend their legitimately earned cash on your privileged white arse….

Hard to give any credence to this woman for many reasons the main ones being:
-her abject cruelty to her sister
-the fact that an ex-priest penned that letter at the end (I know who I believe!)
-no mention of what went on in the divorce…Hamm I wonder why????
-and let’s not even mention the trust fund……
-….or the lack of taking on board that she would have to move out of her privileged white suburb… (eh, excuse me, real life luv!!!)

Correct, I hated this book - she’s the least reliable narrator I have ever read.

[Elysha · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a really accessible and easy to read book about the author's unconventional way of overcoming trauma through psychedelic therapy.

[VinitaF · Rating 2 out of 5]

This could have been a memoir without the sassafras as the actual link between MDMA and a reckoning with the over privileged life with trauma were not so clear to me. Granted she does make a nod towards her privileged background but at times I couldn’t help thinking what the real other side to this story is.

[Jen Weinstein · Rating 5 out of 5]

Book Review: Sassafras by Rebecca Huntly

Sassafras by Rebecca Huntly is a profoundly moving and soul-stirring book that resonated with me on a deeply personal level. Rarely does a book feel like a direct conversation with my heart, but this one achieved just that. From the very first page, Huntly’s gentle yet evocative storytelling invited me into a world where pain, healing, and hope coexist in a beautifully raw and honest dance.

The journey this book took me on was both cathartic and transformative. I cried—a lot. It wasn’t just sadness but also the release of emotions I had held onto for far too long. As someone living with trauma and CPTSD, Sassafras felt like a safe companion that validated my experiences while gently encouraging reflection and growth.

Huntly masterfully weaves themes of interconnectedness, healing, and the often unseen parallels between our inner and outer worlds. Through her words, I found moments of quiet reflection and an invitation to consider the possibility of hope and resilience, even in the face of life’s greatest challenges.

This book isn’t just for those navigating trauma; it’s for anyone seeking to better understand the human experience. Huntly’s prose is compelling, her insights universal, and the emotional journey she offers is unforgettable. Sassafras is a book that lingers in your thoughts, a quiet voice reminding you of the strength within and the beauty of healing.

Thank you, Rebecca Huntly, for sharing this incredible gift with the world. Sassafras is a book I will carry with me for a long time, reflecting on its messages as I navigate my own path to healing. For anyone wondering if they should read this book—do.

[Alice Jones1234567 · Rating 5 out of 5]

CW: abuse, domestic violence, cruelty

In this memoir Rebecca Huntley tracks both her life, as a child of cruel and violent parents, and her experiences with MDMA therapy to heal the trauma.

While it is hard to read in parts, the stories of trauma are interspersed with stories of the MDMA and how it helps her. So there is hope among the gloom.

I agree with others who say it’s a quick read, and the writing is clear, simple and accessible.

Reading this made me realise how lucky I am to have had (much) better family of origin than the author. If you have experience of the kind of trauma described in the book, you may find it triggering, but you might also feel less alone.

I would recommend it to anyone interested in human stories and understanding what makes people tick, and what some people are dealing with. It’s also, of course, a good book to read if you are considering doing MDMA therapy.

[Cath Mac · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fascinating insight into the effects of childhood trauma and its ongoing repercussions through adulthood.
Rebecca’s writing is conversational and relatable on one hand, while the content is devastatingly upsetting.
Her vulnerable memories of childhood hurt and pain, strained family relationships and how they have shaped her life and subsequent relationships is interspersed with insightful reflections and hope for recovery and repair. While her experience of MDMA therapy is deeply personal she also provides history and context of the one time party drug and developments in its use to treat stress disorders and process trauma.

[Chris Black · Rating 5 out of 5]

Extraordinarily powerful and honest. A book that will grab at your hair and pull it in the most vicious yet insightful way. In a deeply moving personal memoir, Rebecca shares deep hurts and betrayals by those who are supposed to love and protect us the most - our own parents. The exploration of MDMA therapy is almost too personal to read, yet I was compelled to devoured the whole book in less than a day. I feel like this will take me days and weeks to process - but in a positive way. I can only say thank you. And please, read this book.

[Daniel Wong · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was recommended to me when I raised the subject of previously unknown PTSD surfacing when triggered. Perhaps MDMA could be used to deal with buried trauma.

So I was curious about the claim that MDMA therapy could be used to unlock long-buried traumatic memories. Rebecca Huntley wrote a very easy to read book and her words flowed naturally.

The author's experience has provided sufficient incentive to consider this as a possible treatment.

[Jean Stasse · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rebecca has therapy using the ecstacy drug mdma and feels that it greatly enhanced her healing from childhood traumas. She prefaces the need to have sessions supervised by an experienced therapist. She has 3 sessions spaced out with 2 months in between to allow the needed integration of what new insights She has received.

[Penny Christie · Rating 4 out of 5]

A beautifully written book about trauma and the attempt to navigate it, in order to live a better life!

[Nance Frawley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a very sad story but ultimately positive. Well written. I couldn’t put it down - read it in 2 days

[Kerrie]

Listened via audiobook

[Nick · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautifully written account of healing through psychedelic therapy.

[Elise Warren · Rating 4 out of 5]

A raw and insightful exploration of CPTSD and the therapeutic potential of MDMA. An engaging and important read.

[Lindsay Bartels · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found the helpful properties of MDMA therapy so fascinating! This was a brave and compassionate memoir of the author’s own traumatic upbringing, family history, and her healing journey.

[K · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dymocks, Syd.

[Ryan Harris · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’m glad to see the ongoing normalization of MDMA’s therapeutic value and memoirs like this that destigmatize the breakdown of parent-child relationships. It resonates with me as someone who would prefer to talk about their own experience in a sensitive but matter-of-fact way.

Takeaways

Huntley’s portrayal of abusive, neglectful parents is infuriating. Their lack of growth and inability to understand the impact of their actions on their children is baffling. That this emotional abuse continues throughout Huntley’s adulthood is shameful.

Their behaviour clearly stems from their own developmental traumas and lack of relationship skills. But why didn’t they learn and grow? Huntley’s insight not to perpetuate the cycle of abuse with her own children is admirable; so why didn’t her parents gain this same self-awareness?

I appreciated the humour with which Huntley could lighten her experiences and I found myself laughing out loud at a few lines, like when she splurges on her accommodation in which to do one of her MDMA sessions: “If things were going to get emotionally messy, I wanted to fall apart in Egyptian cotton sheets.”

The sessions themselves helped her reach a state of emotional acceptance about her upbringing and her relationship with her parents. Rather than transforming her, the drug allowed her to understand her experiences from a safe emotional distance. She could even feel empathy for her parents as damaged individuals, without feeling the need to reconcile the relationship.

Importantly, Huntley was fortunate enough to be in a position of stability to undergo the sessions. She was in a good place physically, financially and emotionally, which her guide made a condition of the therapy—highlighting the broader environmental conditions required for healing.

The audiobook narration by Menik Gooneratne was excellent.

Reflection

I’m glad I cut ties with my parents as early as I did. It is clear from Huntley’s experience, as well as other memoirs like What My Bones Know and What Happened to You, that parents who damage their children in this way appear to be incapable of change or of making amends.

I do not regret it and it provides me with a sense of relief. It is impossible to fully recover as grief is permanent. But it becomes lighter as you reparent yourself and are fortunate enough to develop a richly satisfying emotional life.

I would be interested in MDMA therapy, not for radical healing, but for maintaining the calm acceptance I’ve cultivated. Huntley’s experience of revisiting a cinema of memories was particularly intriguing.

I think if I did do it, I would like to focus on accepting the apology I’ll never receive. And also, I think I would like to reflect on my early romantic experiences, the impact of which on my sense of trust and value I think I have overlooked.

But who knows what memories MDMA therapy would conjure? I think that is what Huntley’s memoir conveys about it: it helps a person in a position of strength process deeply rooted memories and achieve a sense of acceptance, understanding and empathy.

[KC (The Byron Alternative) · Rating 2 out of 5]

I finished this book and I have mixed feelings. I can see why some readers found it powerful and literary, because it does take on very big themes like trauma, identity, privilege, and healing. It is honest and reflective and I respect anyone who writes openly about their own pain.

However, I personally felt like the part I was most interested in, the MDMA therapy element, was not explored deeply enough. The descriptions of the sessions felt surface level and I was left wanting more. The concept had huge potential, but it got overshadowed by familiar memoir territory. There were many pages focused on her upbringing and the emotional fallout she carried into adulthood, and for me that took centre stage instead.

It was well written at times, and there is value in the conversation it invites about how we heal and the different routes people take to make peace with their past. But I finished it feeling like the balance was off. I wanted more focus on the psychedelic experience and how it actually affected her mind and her sense of self, and instead I felt like I was reading yet another personal trauma memoir.

I am glad I read it, but it was not what I hoped it would be. Two stars for the effort and the bravery of the subject matter, but it fell short of what I expected.