Over the course of my career, I found helping children whose parents were divorcing some of my most stressful cases. Although I had treated childhood trauma for 25 years, I was initially slow to grasp the depths of suffering experienced by those children whose parents were highly conflicted in divorce, or remained so, long afterwards using their children as pawns to inflict pain on the other parent. In a divorce, parents are often wounded in a manner that triggers or re-traumatizes them at the place of their own childhood wounds. Overwhelmed by their own feelings they may be unaware of the emotional “war zone” they shape in their families (Figure A).
In the 1980’s and early 1990’s plenty of attorneys kept their parent/clients emotionally escalated, which provided them with more billable hours. At that time, these divorce dynamics were just becoming recognized as harmful to children, and legal approaches began to change. It was solely by observing the severity of painful experiences from children of conflicted custody/divorce, juxtaposed to others with “identifiable” PTSD such as sexual abuse victims or the traumatic death of a parent, that it became clear to me that trauma patterns were present in the play of both groups. The journal of the Association for Play Therapy (September 2024) offers therapists valuable information to manage these cases including topics on ethics and our own reactivity. Here I present voices and images directly from the children’s play. At the end I will also share some information I learned that was not addressed in the journal.
Mommy pulls me this way…
Daddy pulls me that…
Sometimes I’m so mixed up.
I don’t know where I’m at!
This “In the Middle Dance” and song performed by a six-year-old girl begins to illustrate her experiences of confusion and insecurity which began with the destabilizing impact of her parent’s divorce. The psychological trauma of these children does not leave a visible scar yet may impact their development so fundamentally that it interferes with their abilities to form trusting, authentic, emotionally satisfying relationships throughout their lives. One 11-year-old girl who had survived three years of the “divorce war” and saw no end in sight stated, “I guess my parents can’t even try to give me a normal childhood.” Unfortunately, the kinds of painful experiences these children share have remained steady throughout the decades. They include:
• Helplessness – they can’t escape the conflict. Often the extended families are engaged as well, so they offer no respite.
• Fear (often terror) that no one will care for them.
• A loss of belief in their specialness/importance in the family, and/or a distorted, inflated sense of importance of their own position.
• Feeling alone and unprotected. (Older siblings often feel pressure to protect the younger ones.)
• Shame and guilt for the divorce.
• A loss of trust in the world.
• A sense of feeling blamed and embarrassed.
• Ongoing trauma – sometimes after an initial traumatic event.
These children are highly hypervigilant. I have found the following common experiences or themes exhibited by children of high conflict divorce/custody in their play, including dynamic play, sand trays, and conversations:
• Confusion – what is real?
• Powerlessness and the use of power.
• Defensiveness.
• Safety and protection, and the lack thereof.
• Annihilation vs. survival.
• Hopelessness vs. maintaining hope.
• Fear of taking sides.
• Surviving in a “war zone” of animosity and conflict.
• Trust – can anyone be trusted, including themselves.
For those who don’t know my work, I admit to being a Sandtray enthusiast. The use of the sand tray apparatus and my Lowenfeld based Sandtray techniques, allow clients to create and explore traumatic and/or confusing events safely. This play helps them relive, reprocess, and reorder their relationships to these experiences. The Sandtray process offers a flexible vehicle to evoke authentic experience, in part due to its multi-sensory and three-dimensional qualities. It provides a way for people to express themselves when words are inadequate. While we cannot change the fact of what happened to us, we can change how we relate to that event internally. As noted by Bob Livingstone (1999): “When memories, feelings, understandings, and experiences are continually created in the sand tray, they can be faced and worked through on an intellectual, and emotional, and spiritual level. The [client] is able to hold these painful scenes because they are standing in front of [them]. This differs from regular talk therapy where the memories reside only in one’s head, and the memories are discussed and intellectualized, but not seen or experienced.” The following examples illustrate children’s sand worlds as shared directly by them. What is presented is not based on the interpretation of archetypal symbols nor on the intuitions or projections of the therapist.

Ten-year-old Madelin experienced intense and extreme conflict between her divorcing parents. In the past, her mother had engaged in alienating behaviors, including a threat to move her out of state. Her father was awarded physical custody with alternating weekends of visitation to her mother, in part because of this alienation. Madelin repeatedly stated that she really wanted to live with her mother but stay in town.
The above sand tray was created several months after Madelin’s custody was granted to her father. The father-daughter relationship had deteriorated significantly. Once the father “won” in court he demonstrated far less interested in the actual routine job of parenting. On arrival to her session this day, Madelin stated that she was “down,” and quietly created this sand world. As she lit the candles, she described how these lit candles were protection for the castle. As we looked at the sand tray together, she added some stars. She explained that these stars are for passengers. They float through the air, weaving between the candles to protect visitors from the fire. She demonstrated how this protection worked, flying a star through the sand world, nearly burning herself. Madelin then put out every candle. She then shared, “With the candles out, there is no protection for the castle…If intruders come, they can’t be stopped.” She then went on to explain, “There might even be some intruders hiding in the castle now.” In this session Madelin depicted her experiences of feeling devastated, helplessness in her ability to protect herself, and her feelings of hopelessness. When Madelin left she needed to leave with the candles out—with no protection.

Steve, a nine-and-a-half-year-old boy in a 50/50 shared custody arrangement, formed this volcano world. His parents were engaged in a bitter battle for full custody, could not coordinate care, and routinely undermined each other’s parenting. Steve stated, “Everything that is sticking up is a volcano.” Later he observed, “This is a hot, dangerous place with lava flowing all over…There is no place to go without being burned.” Each parent presented as so flooded with their own sense of abandonment, betrayal, loss, and fear, that they could not take in Steve’s pain living in the “war zone” they had created.

Ashley, 11 years-old, came to see me on a summer visit with her mother. Her parents lived in different states, and she was with her father during the school year. Her parents were no longer involved with the courts but did not co-parent. Ashley formed the world above, beginning by dividing the sand tray into three distinct parts. She described this world as having a place for Mom’s house (Northwest), and a place for Dad’s house (Southeast). As she placed miniatures in each of these areas of the sand tray, she reiterated the that these areas are very separate and noted the qualities of each area. This view reflected the very different values of each parent and felt like living in two distinct and different cultures. Even where the sand touches on the right (East) side, forming what appeared to be a sand bridge, Ashley was adamant that there was not a way across.

Lastly the items in the middle were placed. Ashley stated that these were the things she liked, and we spent time with the positive feelings and experiences depicted here, and how they helped support and ground her. When it was time to end the session, the only photograph she chose to take home was a photograph of “the stuff I like in the middle,” which was held in a separate place from either parent’s home.

Thirteen-year-old Thomas made many battles. Each battle had different qualities as a focus, was carefully set up, and played out in detail. His parents were in a protracted custody battle that had already lasted for over three years. “War play” has many nuances and is often far more than just an “expression of aggression” as some tend to believe. In this battle, Thomas depicted detailed knowledge of this war’s disregard of rules, terrorist style attacks, and each side’s willingness to annihilate the other. At one point it appeared that everyone had died. Then one figure crawled out and was placed standing up amid the carnage.

This standing soldier was the only survivor. Thomas placed him sitting on top of a small hill of sand, then described that the survivor’s job was to tell everyone about the battle. To let everyone know how devastating the war was and to report on how many people died. The survivor on the hill was looking at everything the entire time, he witnessed all that occurred in this battle and survived to tell the tale.
The effort of being authentically present and resonating with children’s pain requires great strength and perspective. Maintaining relationships with their parents who may feel humiliated and angry, and display a high degree of cognitive distortion, may heighten a therapist’s distress. Throughout my clinical practice I committed to engage in weekly group and individual consultations. This was a very expensive commitment, but I could not have provided a safe space for the children without routinely challenging my own reactivity and working to continually improve my ability to hold boundaries. I also engaged in my twice daily “spiritual workout” and did my own Sandtray work to center myself. All that said does not mean that I never made mistakes.
In summary, the article by Stroup and Leavitt, among others, are excellent sources of information. Emphasis includes knowing the law and ethical standards in the state where you practice. All the above examples were during my time in California. One screening tool I learned to use was to have parents go to the court and have me designated as “the agreed upon child therapist.” This decreased the chances that therapy would become a pawn in their conflicts as each parent attempted to get me “on their side.” I also requested to meet with both parents together once all the questionnaires were returned, and prior to meeting a child. When this could be done, the chances of eventually decreasing conflict were higher. Finally, I encourage therapists to purchase the highest level of malpractice insurance available, and one that offers legal support for state board actions.
References and Resources:
Playtherapy, Volume 19, Issue 3, September 2024
Sandtray: Playing to Heal, Recover, and Grow, (2013/2015) by R. Rae
Sandtray Network Journal, Winter 1999, Vol.3, No. 4 “The Beginnings of Resolving Grief Through Sandtray Therapy” by Bob Livingstone, LCSW
Portions of this article were published earlier in The Sandtray Network Journal, (Winter 2000) and Clinical Update (January 2001).
A practical aid to therapists doing divorce/custody work is Shared Parenting: Beyond the Great Divide by Frank Leek, PhD. This book clarifies 20 co-parenting tasks and includes forms that may be used to help parents organize their communications about their child in the business of co-parenting.