The Amusement Park Analogy

Understanding a Child's Emotional Insight After Separation

By Maria Sarina, Social Psychologist and Counsellor

As a social psychologist and counsellor, I have spent many years helping families navigate the emotional complexities of separation. But every so often, a personal conversation with my own children teaches me something that theory alone never could. One such conversation with my youngest son became a moment of profound understanding — one that I believe offers insight for all who work with children in post-separation contexts.

Several months after the separation from their father, my sons had become estranged from him. The catalyst was their discovery that their father had a new girlfriend — something they learned indirectly. Since then, they had refused contact, and I gently sought to understand why.

The metaphor that said everything

I asked my son whether he could explain why he didn't want to see his father, and whether he would reconsider if the relationship with his girlfriend ended. His response was unexpected and deeply metaphorical: "Mum," he said, "imagine having your favourite amusement park that you used to love going to all the time. And then you find out that a kid was killed there. And then you find out that the owner of the amusement park killed that kid. You don't ever want to go back in case it happens to you."

In that moment, my son gave voice to something far beyond words. His metaphor conveyed the depth of his fear, disillusionment, and grief.

The place that had once brought him joy and a sense of safety had been violated. The person he once trusted had become unpredictable, unfamiliar, and unsafe.

When trust crumbles

I asked him when this shift happened — when he realised, metaphorically, that something terrible had happened in that "amusement park." He replied, "When I found out about my dad having a girlfriend. He was always different there. He was a dad but not my dad — and then I realised why. I don't know how many times he's lied, or how many more secrets he has. So it's just better not to see him anymore."

My son's response wasn't only about the new relationship. It was about betrayal. It was about the crumbling of trust, the ambiguity of truth, and the erosion of safety. His desire to avoid contact was rooted in protection — not punishment.

When I asked if he missed his father or felt bad about the distance, he said, "No, but I miss the dad I used to have." And when I asked who that was, he simply said, "The dad that lived here with us." This was grief, pure and raw — he had once been the hopeful one, the child who longed for our family to be restored. He held on the longest. But when the reality became undeniable, it hit him hardest.

When the weight becomes too much

What followed was a mental health crisis. After receiving a message from his older brother that included some upsetting images, he reached a breaking point. He disclosed to me that he had experienced suicidal thoughts and had even planned to end his life by overdose. This disclosure shifted everything. His physical safety became my immediate concern, but equally critical was his emotional and psychological safety.

What this means for professionals and parents

As professionals, we must listen carefully to the metaphors children offer. They often express what they cannot yet explain directly. His story is not isolated. It represents what many children feel but are never able to articulate.

We must remember that for children, separation is not simply the end of a relationship between adults — it is the fragmentation of their emotional world. Their sense of stability, security, and identity is shaken. And when dishonesty, ambiguity, or betrayal is perceived, the emotional fallout can be devastating.

This is why separation must never be taken lightly. It must be a last resort, after every avenue of healing, honesty, and change has been exhausted. Because for a child, the effects aren't momentary — they are foundational.

Keeping the door open

My son's brave words will stay with me forever. His metaphor — an amusement park turned place of danger — reminds us that the things children love most can also be the source of their deepest hurt when trust is broken.

Let us keep listening. Let us honour their words. And let us ensure that when they speak, they are met not with correction, but with care.

Go gently, Maria.