I’ve always had a soft spot for Lily. She was precocious—soft-spoken, a little meek, and honest with her emotions. We were learning together how to handle them. She carried a fair amount of self-doubt, and I often thought about how to help her accept the parts of herself she didn’t like.

As a trainee, I usually spend hours planning technical interventions before sessions. But sometimes, practical textbook methods don’t land. Midway through the session, I decided to go with my heart and tell her a little story.

“I want to tell you a strange little story,” I said. “You’re going to be the main character. Are you up for it?” She nodded, curious.

“Okay. One day, you go to school as usual, a little late. You walk into the lecture hall, and everyone stares. Then someone points at you — there’s the green toad! A green toad! Instead of seeing a person, they call you a green toad.”

“That’s absurd!” she laughed.

“I know,” I said, smiling. I kept going.

“Later, you decide to meet Aaron for a movie. When you walk into the theater, the lights come on. Everyone turns to you, points, and laughs again. The green toad! The green toad!”

Lily laughed again. The idea was so ridiculous it couldn’t survive scrunity.

“Same thing happens later in your boyfriend’s room. This time Aaron calls you a green toad and chuckles.” She grinned.

“Ridiculous, right?” I laughed with her. “Hold onto that story for a moment. Let’s move on to the next exercise. Are you keen?” She nodded.

I handed her a piece of paper. “Please draw a big, empty ‘I.’ Now, draw a line down the middle. On the left, write what you love about yourself; on the right, what you dislike.”

“Next,” I continued, “inside the big I, draw little ‘i’s—one for each strength, one for each weakness. Circle the little i’s that feel like flaws, and imagine them as stains.”

She did as I asked, focused and quiet.

“Now, there it is. This big I,” I said, “represents you. All the little i’s—the strengths, the flaws, and everything in between—that’s what makes you, you. You are the big I. You’re the small i’s. You’re not just your positive qualities, and you’re not just your negative flaws. You’re all of it. That’s what makes you beautiful. You’re.. Lily.”

“Lily, when I see you, I see someone beautiful, even with flaws and all. But all you see,” I added softly, “is a Green Toad.”

She went quiet and started to tear.

“I understand now,” she she said quietly.

And I think in that moment, I did too.

When we focus on connection instead of a checklist of interventions, the impact is often deeper. And maybe, just maybe, if she could begin to see herself differently, I could learn to do the same.