Woven Roots Therapeutic Practice

04/06/2026

🧠🎨 What is Mentalisation and Why Does it Matter in Play Therapy?

Mentalisation is our ability to understand what is happening in our own minds and in the minds of others.

It is the capacity to wonder:

✨ What am I feeling right now?✨ What might be driving my behaviour?✨ What might somebody else be thinking or feeling?✨ Could there be another explanation for what just happened?

When children become overwhelmed, frightened, angry, ashamed, or dysregulated, this capacity often temporarily disappears. Instead of being able to think about their feelings, they may act them out through behaviour, conflict, withdrawal, perfectionism, control, or emotional outbursts.

This is particularly relevant for children who have experienced trauma, loss, disrupted attachment relationships, or chronic stress. Research suggests that adverse childhood experiences can impact a child's ability to understand and reflect upon their own internal world and the intentions of others.

🎭 How does this link to play therapy?

Play therapy naturally creates opportunities for mentalisation to develop.

Through play, storytelling, art, sand trays, role play, metaphor, and symbolic expression, children begin to externalise experiences that may feel too overwhelming, confusing, or complex to put into words.

Rather than asking directly, "How do you feel?", the therapist may become curious alongside the child:

🔎 "I wonder what this character might be feeling?"
🔎 "What do you think the dragon needs right now?"
🔎 "I notice the castle keeps getting stronger each week."

In many ways, the therapist becomes a gentle detective, helping the child find clues about thoughts, feelings, bodily sensations, needs, and relationships.

I came across an interesting article exploring the concept of mentalisation and its application within art therapy. Whilst the article focuses specifically on art therapy, many of the ideas resonated strongly with my experience as a play therapist. The piece highlights how creative expression can provide a bridge between experience and language, helping children make sense of feelings that may initially be too big, confusing, or overwhelming to put into words.

It is well worth a read for anyone interested in child development, emotional wellbeing, creativity, and the therapeutic process.

In this series of articles looking at developments in art therapy practice, Joanna Stevens talks about psychoeducation in art therapy.

28/03/2026

A beautiful quote to pause with…
to let percolate, simmer, and quietly stay with you.🌱✨

28/03/2026

Pride is not always an easy emotion for children to access or tolerate—especially for care experienced children.

For many of the children I work with, pride doesn’t land as something warm or safe. Instead, it can feel exposing, uncomfortable, or even quickly followed by shame. You might notice it being dismissed (“that doesn’t count”), rejected, or experienced as patronising—even when it’s offered gently and authentically.

This often links to deeper internal scripts shaped by early relational experiences:
• “I’m not good enough”
• “I’ll get it wrong”
• “Something bad will follow if I feel good about myself”

So when a child begins to:
• tolerate positive reflection
• stay with a sense of “I did that well”
• feel pride without immediately pushing it away

this is significant emotional work.

In the playroom, this might look like:
• a child cautiously accepting a reflection instead of rejecting it
• showing pride after repair (“I said sorry”)
• allowing themselves to feel good, even briefly

These moments can be small, but they are meaningful indicators of change.

As therapists, part of our role is to:
• offer consistent, grounded reflections
• not overinflate or withdraw
• stay with the child even when pride feels uncomfortable or is rejected

Over time, this helps expand the child’s window of tolerance—not just for difficult emotions, but for positive ones too.

And often, with care experienced children, we see this more pronouncedly. Their early experiences may not have provided safe or consistent mirroring of pride, making it something that has to be learned—slowly, relationally, and through experience.

Pride, in this context, isn’t just about confidence.

It’s about safety in being seen.

22/03/2026

There’s been a lot of conversation recently about how hard it is to focus— and it makes sense in the world we’re living in.

But I came across some interesting research from The Queen’s Reading Room that offers a helpful reminder of what reading can actually do for us.

Just five minutes of reading was linked to a reduction in stress of nearly 20%. Focus improved too — by around 11%. What stood out most to me though was the relational aspect… reading, particularly fiction, was associated with a decrease in feelings of loneliness and an increased sense of connection.

That’s something we don’t often talk about.

In a time where so much of our attention is pulled in fragmented directions, reading asks something different of us. It invites us into a slower, more immersive experience — one where the nervous system can begin to settle, where imagination comes online, and where we can step into another perspective without pressure.

From a therapeutic lens, that makes a lot of sense.

Stories allow us to process emotion at a safe distance. They offer symbolic language for things that can feel hard to articulate directly. They create a bridge between inner experience and the outside world.

It’s also worth noting — this research is early-stage and was commissioned by a charity, so it’s not definitive science. But it aligns with what many of us see in practice and experience personally.

So maybe the question isn’t “why can’t we focus on books anymore?”
Maybe it’s “what conditions help us return to them?”

Not pressure. Not shoulds.
Just the right book, at the right time.📚

Read more here:

Her Majesty Queen Camilla

17/03/2026

✨ ADHD, Camouflaging, and the Girls We Meet in the Playroom

There is a growing understanding that many neurodivergent girls don’t always look like we expect.

Instead of being visibly impulsive or disruptive, they are often:
🌿 adapting
🌿 attuning
🌿 working hard to stay connected and accepted

This is often described as camouflaging — using strategies to mask or compensate for differences in order to meet social expectations 

🧠 A neurodiversity-affirming reframe

Camouflaging is not a deficit.
It is a highly intelligent, relational adaptation.

A child’s nervous system is asking:
👉 “What do I need to do to belong here?”

And the child responds accordingly.

As Brené Brown reminds us:
“Fitting in is about assessing a situation and becoming who you need to be to be accepted.
Belonging, on the other hand, doesn’t require us to change who we are; it requires us to be who we are.”

🌊 When we view this through a trauma-informed lens

We might understand camouflaging as:
• A response to felt or anticipated relational threat
• A way of maintaining connection over authenticity
• A nervous system strategy rooted in safety, not performance

For some children, especially those who have experienced rupture, inconsistency, or misunderstanding,
being fully seen has not always felt safe.

🎭 How this can show up in the playroom

Not always as “ADHD” in the traditional sense, but as:
• Perfectionism or over-efforting
• Careful rule-following or compliance
• Social monitoring before engaging
• A split between inside feelings and outside presentation
• Emotional release once the holding becomes too much

💔 The hidden cost

Research suggests that long-term camouflaging can be linked to:
• Increased emotional distress
• Lower wellbeing
• A sense of disconnection from self 

Not because the child is “failing”…
but because they have been working so hard for so long.

🌱 The role of play therapy

Within a child-centred, relational space, we offer something different:

✨ A place where nothing needs to be hidden
✨ Where behaviour is understood as communication
✨ Where the child’s way of being is not corrected, but welcomed

We might gently communicate:

“You don’t have to work so hard to be accepted here.”
“All parts of you are allowed.”

Sometimes the child who appears “fine”
is the one doing the most invisible labour.

And sometimes, play becomes the first place
where that labour can be laid down.

blob:

14/03/2026

As therapists, we are constantly attuned to proximity, body language, posture, and spatial positioning. These subtle relational signals can significantly influence how safe a child feels in the therapeutic space.

In Sarah Lathan’s book, she reflects on Dr Bruce Perry’s observations about proximity and distance, particularly his concept of the “intimacy barrier” for trauma-affected children.

She highlights research suggesting that typically developing children often experience intimate space within roughly 45 cm, but for children who have experienced trauma this space can expand to nearly a metre. When this boundary is crossed too quickly, it can lead to heightened arousal or even a kind of cognitive shut-down.

From a clinical perspective in the playroom, I often notice that small adjustments can make a meaningful difference:

• Sitting alongside a child in a parallel position rather than directly face-to-face can feel far less threatening.
• Getting down to the child’s physical level rather than standing over them.
• Ensuring we are not positioned as a barrier to the doorway, so the child still experiences freedom of movement.
• Being mindful that some children have become highly skilled at reading non-verbal cues as a survival strategy.
• Asking children where they would feel comfortable with me sitting or standing in the room.
• Offering gentle reflections about what we notice in their body language or energy.

These adjustments may seem small, but they communicate something essential:

You are safe. You have agency here. Your body’s signals matter.

Often, the therapeutic relationship is built through these non-verbal signals of safety long before deeper verbal processing begins.

The body notices first.

14/03/2026

🧠🧠 Could the colour of light support mental wellbeing?

Researchers in Norway are exploring how something as simple as the colour of indoor lighting may support people experiencing mental health difficulties.

Key insights from the research:

• Light plays an important role in regulating our circadian rhythm – the body’s internal 24-hour clock that influences sleep, energy, mood, and overall wellbeing. When these rhythms are disrupted, people may experience increased vulnerability to difficulties such as depression or emotional distress.

• In a psychiatric ward in Trondheim, evening lighting was designed to reduce blue wavelengths, shifting rooms to a softer amber tone. This type of light more closely mirrors the natural changes that occur at sunset and can help the body prepare for sleep.

• In a study involving 476 people receiving mental health care, those in the blue-reduced lighting environment showed greater improvements in wellbeing and fewer incidents of distress compared with those in standard lighting conditions.

• Because the change is built into the environment, people do not need to actively do anything for it to have an effect. The surroundings themselves begin to support the body’s natural rhythms.

• Researchers believe light may influence much more than sleep, including mood, alertness, and emotional regulation.

This research highlights something many therapists already observe: our environments matter. The sensory world around us—light, sound, rhythm, and safety cues—can quietly shape how our nervous systems settle, rest, and recover.

🔗 Read the full article:

A psychiatric unit in Norway has been testing its built-in lighting on conditions such as psychosis and depression

10/03/2026

One of the most reassuring insights from the science of attachment is that children do not need perfect parents.

In every relationship there will be moments of frustration, misunderstanding, distance, or disconnection. These experiences are a normal part of being human.

What matters most for children is something different: consistent care and the experience of repair.

When adults are able to come back after difficult moments — to reconnect, acknowledge feelings, and restore the relationship — children learn something incredibly important. They learn that relationships can stretch and wobble, but they can also be repaired.

Over time, these repeated experiences help children develop a deeper sense of safety and trust in relationships. This becomes the foundation for emotional regulation, resilience, and wellbeing across the lifespan.

In play therapy, we often support children and families within this relational space — helping children process experiences, strengthening connection, and creating opportunities for repair where it may have been difficult before.

If you’re interested in learning more about the science behind attachment, this article offers a thoughtful overview:

Science of attachment – Suzanne Zeedyk asks: Why does our culture still have such a poor appreciation of the impact of childhood experiences?