Photo credit: Sarah Elizabeth
On a Tuesday night in May, nearly a hundred guests gathered at a spa near downtown Austin to celebrate something that rarely invites celebration: the breaking of silence.
There were aura photo booths, tarot card readings and cupcakes topped with little dragonflies. Friends, readers, former colleagues, spiritual teachers, and members of Austin’s creative community moved through the space with copies of My mother is a dragonflyAmy Scott Rooker’s debut memoir about childhood sexual abuse, grief and the long journey back to herself.
Despite the topic, the evening did not feel heavy. It felt celebratory—less like a formal literary event than a gathering centered around honesty, survival, and return.
During a short reading, Rooker spoke about trauma, survival and the possibility of return.
“This book is about how we leave parts of ourselves behind,” she told the audience. “The version of ourselves that we left behind never went anywhere. She’s been here all along, patiently waiting for us to come back.”
Photo credit: Sarah Elizabeth
Rooker described the dragonfly, a symbol attached to her mother after her death, as a metaphor for transformation. A creature that spends most of its life underwater before emerging into the light.
“What if we’re not lost at all?” Rooker asked. “What if we just move through the darkness and survive the trials of our lives, until one day something that sleeps within us stirs – calling us towards the light?”
The memoir traces Rooker’s path from high-functioning survival and corporate success through the unraveling that followed her mother’s death, including psychedelic experiences that changed how she understood her past, herself, and the silence she had carried for decades.
Photo credit: Sarah Elizabeth
Published earlier this month, My mother is a dragonfly explores trauma, silence, forgiveness and awakening. The book has already received national media attention, with meditation teacher and best-selling author Sharon Salzberg describing it as “an act of love” and the Seattle Books Review awarding it five stars.
For Rooker, the evening was never just about a book launch. It marked a turning point – standing before friends, readers, former colleagues and teachers to speak openly about the abuse she had endured in silence for decades and finally choosing to live from the truth.
