A House for the Lizard
Giving her protection mechanism a place to live
Sina’s mother filled out the intake form the way many exhausted parents do. With a long wishlist of issues for me to address.
Stress in new situations.
Fear of making mistakes.
Explosive anger.
Teeth grinding.
Behind the list was a child of striking contradictions. Deeply empathetic, honest, full of humor.
But also quick to explode, hard on herself, convinced she never did anything right.
Session 1
Eyes closed, we moved through her life from the very beginning. Looking for different feelings and where they had originated.
There were several feelings stored in her body. Anger, sadness, a fear of not being protected.
What we found at the centre was a protective shell. A sphere made of armored glass. Sina had built it around herself over the years. It was mostly intact. But cracked in places. A gap at the feet. A hole near the heart.
We found and reframed the moments where the cracks had formed. We repaired what could be repaired and replaced what needed replacing.
She left with a rainbow necklace and one homework assignment: Look at the drawing you made, hold your hands together, and feel that you are protected.
Session 2
The first few days after our first session Sina had been much calmer. Then the anger returned.
In session two we followed a thread that needed its own attention.
Mealtimes had always been a battleground. If the meal wasn’t to her liking or she had to wait, Sina became disproportionately distressed. We traced it back.
To the first hours of her life.
She had nearly starved in those hours. In her desperation she had sucked so hard on her father’s arm that she left marks. Then she refused the breast. Oddly only taking it only at night, when the world had quieted. The hunger had been real. The rage at waiting had been real. And somewhere in those first hours, hunger and anger had fused together in her nervous system. Every difficult mealtime since had been running on that template.
We worked with her lizard directly. The part of her that had decided waiting for food was a survival emergency. We helped it understand that the emergency was over.
Since she loved horses, I left her with an image to end the session. Sina visualized a stable. Then it was mealtime. No horse made any drama. No horse got upset or angry. Each and every horse patiently waited for Sina to give them each their portion of hay.
She drew herself absorbing patience and calm from a horse. Her lizard was in the drawing too.
What came after.
A few weeks later I got an email from Sina’s mom:
I wanted to thank you once more for what you did. Sina seems so happy and carefree in a way I have not seen before. This change is incredible. She can now take criticism calmly without taking everything so much to heart. She talks to her friends and teachers about her experiences and feelings and receives a lot of positive feedback. The harshness and being strict with herself and others is practically gone. She can finally enjoy her life. I am so grateful to you. THANK YOU.
And a fantastic picture. Sina had built a house for her lizard.
I almost always give kids a small plush lizard.
It sounds simple. But for a child who has just spent an hour getting to know their own protection mechanism, having something tangible to hold matters a lot.
Giving it a name, having a conversation with it, helping it understand.
This becomes so much more than a toy. It’s a reminder that the part of them that reacts, that protects, that sometimes overreacts is not the enemy. It’s a true friend that has their best interest at heart.
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