The Boy Who Built a Wall Around Himself
A Therapeutic Reflection for Children and Adults
The Boy Who Built a Wall Around Himself, written by Ali Redford, is a gentle, powerful story designed for children who have experienced trauma. It uses the metaphor of a wall to represent emotional self-protection — something many children and adults can relate to when navigating the impact of abuse, neglect, or other painful experiences.
I often read this book with children who are processing sadness, fear, or past hurt. Many of them have lived through situations where trust was broken — sometimes by the very people meant to protect them. The story helps give language to their experience. After reading, I’ll often ask reflection questions such as:
In what ways do you protect yourself?
Who is someone kind that has tried to connect with you?
How do you know when you feel scared that you might get hurt again?
What are some things you feel others may not understand about you?
These questions support children in naming their emotional walls without shame. I gently remind them that those walls once served an important purpose — they protected them. But now, with safe people around, those same walls might also keep connections out. We explore together how it might feel to begin trusting again, without needing to tear the wall down all at once.
Using This Book With Adults
While it may seem unexpected, I also use The Boy Who Built a Wall Around Himself with adult clients. Admittedly, some laugh when I suggest a children’s book — but this one is a powerful exception.
Because I work from an attachment-based lens, I often use metaphors to help adults explore their emotional defenses. The wall in this story beautifully symbolizes the protective strategies we develop over time — often beginning in childhood — to guard against pain, rejection, or abandonment. For many adults, the act of letting others in is complicated. Even when they want connection, those old defenses can rise up quickly.
We talk about how intimacy can trigger both longing and fear. Often, it’s in moments of safety — when someone kind comes close — that the wall begins to shake. And yet, this is when defenses may show up most strongly. We may shut down, lash out, avoid, or pull away, even when we deeply crave closeness.
In session, I might ask:
What happens inside you when someone gets emotionally close?
What do you fear might happen if you let someone in?
Are you afraid of being rejected, judged, or abandoned?
What narratives did you internalize growing up about who could be trusted?
Many adults hold the belief: “If the people who were supposed to love me didn’t, why would anyone else?” From this belief, a deep, self-reliant independence can emerge. While that independence may have served them well in some areas, it can make it incredibly difficult to ask for help or receive care from others — especially in therapy.
I never rush this process. I normalize the presence of the wall and validate its original purpose. Then, I gently invite the client to consider: Is the wall still helping? Or is it keeping something important out?
From Walls to Bridges
What I love most about this book is how it invites us — at any age — to reflect on the difference between walls and boundaries. When we learn to trust ourselves, we don’t always need to rely on high walls. Instead, we can build bridges — thoughtful, measured connections where we decide how much to share and with whom.
We discuss how trusting oneself means having the ability to say “this person feels safe” or “I can open up a little here.” It’s not about tearing the wall down completely. It’s about learning when, and with whom, it’s okay to open the gate.
And as for “someone kind”? That person might be a therapist, teacher, friend, or even a stranger who consistently shows up with care. This book reminds us that kindness, safety, and consistency can slowly soften our defenses — and invite us to step outside the wall, one choice at a time.