One participant was a 15 year old girl. She had been vigorously fighting with her parents for a few years. She was small with short cropped hair. She dressed like a boy in a flannel shirt, baggy jeans and tennis shoes. She said her Mom and Dad were on her case all the time.
We sat together on the floor. I asked her to move into this anger and we worked with that, finding that a part of her was really sad and missing them. I asked permission to talk to this part. The part consented and I got to know it more, asking about it's age, home, family and such. The part was a boy about 13 years old, living in south Los Angeles, not far from where we were sitting. He was a bystander, shot and killed by gang violence. When he died, he was very confused and hovered above the scene for awhile, trying to figure out what to do. He spotted a girl about his age and joined her. He was really missing his parents but couldn't get back to them in her body, and was sad, confused and angry. I helped him find and reconnect with his parents. They were so glad to see him, and showed their love for him. He took that in, relieved.
I asked if he was ready to move on, to leave his girlfriend, his host. He protested that he was on her side, that he was her friend, helping her. I asked the two of them to talk about what they really needed and wanted. They both knew they'd be friends, but it was time for him to go.
The next time I saw her, I barely recognized her. She was dressed like a teenage girl, hair done up, and a little makeup. I asked how things were at home. She thought it was a weird question. They were good, of course. She was doing well in school, too.