Dragons and princesses

Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are merely princesses waiting to see us act once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love. 
~Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet


As I interact with people in my world, I am mindful that I am not just interacting with the person standing in front of me; I am interacting with every other person and relationship that has been a part of this individual’s life. I am interacting with memories—positive and horrible; and this individual is interacting with all of those aspects of me as well. We bring our experiences into present interactions and relationships, both consciously and subconsciously. It may be something as simple as an individual bearing a resemblance to a parent figure who abandoned you that brings on what seems like an illogical distrust that this person will leave you too. In counseling, we call this transference—any cue experienced sensorily that impacts our perspective of and interaction with another.

Within the counseling relationship, transference can be an incredibly useful jumping off point to identify lingering feelings that are currently clouding someone’s ability to show up as their best selves within all sorts of relationships. Perhaps it causes them to shut down, act out, or trust too early. This can impact dating, friendships, and employment. And we will continue to live in this dysfunction in order not to face whatever is lurking behind this transference—the dragons in our lives. These razor-toothed, fire-breathing giants that have hatched from experiences in our lives and grown into the monsters behind our pain and resulting behavior. 

But what do we do with the dragons?

When I worked with children, one of my favorite therapeutic activities was called “slay the dragon.” I often used this activity with children who had been abused and had a difficult time talking about it or had trouble remembering the abuse itself. In this activity, I would ask the child to draw a dragon on a piece of paper and then tell me about their picture. This dragon was invariably a depiction of their abuser in dragon-form—terrifying and vicious, often with too many talons and ominous colors. Then I would tell the child that we were going on a quest to slay the dragon. The child could choose whoever they would like to join them on this quest—safe adults, friends, imaginary friends, whoever—and what weapons they would like to bring with them to slay the dragon. When we got to the dragon’s lair, I would give the child a black crayon and allow them to completely blot out the image of the dragon on their paper with the crayon while telling me the story of how she slayed her dragon. After nothing was left of the dragon, I would invite the child to turn her paper over and draw what the dragon looked like now. Invariably, the dragon was much smaller, less powerful, and no longer had a hold on the child’s life. Behavior improved, relationships healed, and forgiveness happened. 

During one session with a child who had survived severe physical abuse from his mother, we got to the end of the session where I invited him to draw the dragon after it had been slayed. 

He drew a princess. 

When I asked about the beautiful princess with pink gown and flowing locks, the child said, “I think she’s lonely. I think she turned into a dragon so people couldn’t hurt her. But she doesn’t have to be a dragon anymore. She can be a princess again and make new friends.” This child had, before my eyes, slayed the monstrous dragon that was the memory and trauma of his mother’s abuse, and found a way to empathize with that part of himself, shed the scales, and be open to being loved again. 

When was the last time you even acknowledged the dragon inside of you? Have you ever been brave enough to go on that quest to find the dragon within you to see what lurks behind those impenetrable scales, that forked tongue? Perhaps your dragon is merely a princess waiting to see you act once beautiful and brave. When we face our fears, when we seek within ourselves where our anger, sadness, despair, and dysfunctional behaviors are coming from, more often than not it is something within us that just wants to be loved. 

The invitation is not to turn away from the dragon, but to turn towards. Like so many things that seem ugly, dangerous, and repulsive, what this dragon is really craving is to be seen. 

My favorite psalm captures this desire and God’s response: 

“If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, 
and night wraps itself around me,’
even the darkness is not dark to You; 
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to You.”
~Psalm 139:11-12

Oh, to see and know and love ourselves as God does—perceiving the light behind the darkness and the princess behind the dragon. Healing the wounds within us through the knowledge that with God, we can slay any dragon because even dragons are not dragons to God—our God sees the princess within and invites us on a quest to beckon her to come into the light.