The Power of Relationship: What Fostering and Counselling Looked-After Children Has Taught Me About Healing

With thanks to our member, Debora Gardner, for this blog.

For nine years I was a foster carer. During that time, children and young people came into my home carrying experiences that no child should have to carry. Some arrived frightened, angry or withdrawn. Others appeared resilient on the surface but were struggling with losses and uncertainties that were difficult to put into words.

Following my counselling training and final placement, I chose to focus my practice solely on working with looked-after children. The children I cared for and the experiences we shared continue to shape the counsellor I am today.

My years as a foster carer deepened my understanding of trauma, attachment and loss, but perhaps more importantly, they deepened my empathy. Having lived alongside children whose lives had been shaped by instability and disrupted relationships, I learned that behaviour rarely tells the whole story. Beneath the anger, withdrawal, defiance or anxiety, there is often a child trying to make sense of experiences that have felt overwhelming, confusing or frightening.

This understanding allows me to be fully present with the children I work with today. While I can never know exactly how a child experiences their world, I can sit alongside them with genuine curiosity and compassion. I can appreciate that they may be carrying questions, worries and losses that have been with them for many years. My role is not to judge or fix them, but to create a space where they feel safe enough to be heard, understood and accepted.

One of the greatest privileges of working with looked-after children is witnessing the courage they demonstrate every day. Many have experienced multiple losses, disrupted attachments and broken trust. Yet despite this, they continue to hope, to connect and to search for safety in relationships.

Trust, however, cannot be rushed.

Many of the children I work with have learned through experience that adults do not always stay, promises are not always kept and relationships can disappear without warning. It is therefore understandable that they may approach counselling with caution. Children are often quick to recognise whether adults genuinely understand their experiences, and I have found that empathy, patience and consistency are often the foundations upon which trust begins to grow.

Sometimes progress looks very different from what we expect. It may be a child returning for another session, sharing a feeling they have never expressed before, or allowing an adult to sit alongside them in a difficult moment. These small steps often represent significant achievements.

My person-centred approach aligns naturally with this work. Many looked-after children spend much of their lives being assessed, discussed and written about. The therapeutic relationship offers something different. Through empathy, congruence and unconditional positive regard, children can begin to experience themselves as more than a placement, a report or a list of behaviours. They can begin to experience themselves as valued individuals.

My experience as a foster carer also gave me insight into the challenges faced by carers. Foster carers are often supporting children who have experienced significant trauma whilst navigating meetings, reports, contact arrangements and educational demands. The emotional labour involved is immense.

One aspect of fostering that is rarely spoken about openly is the emotional impact when placements end unexpectedly. During my years as a foster carer, I experienced both the joy of seeing children flourish and the heartbreak of placements that did not work out as hoped. When this happens, the focus quite rightly remains on the child, but carers can be left carrying grief, loss and a profound sense of self-doubt.

I found that professionals could sometimes unintentionally reinforce these feelings. There can be an unspoken suggestion that if a placement has ended, someone must have failed. Yet the reality is often far more complex. Some children arrive with needs that exceed what any individual placement can realistically provide.

What I came to understand is that a placement ending does not necessarily mean it has failed. A child may have experienced safety, stability, acceptance or genuine care for the first time in their life. Those experiences matter, even if the placement itself was unable to continue.

Another area I feel strongly about is life story work. Helping children understand their histories is essential. However, I have often seen children arrive with limited information about their pasts and unanswered questions about who they are and where they come from.

I was also present on occasions when life story work appeared to become more of a task than a therapeutic process. Children were presented with painful information about their lives and expected to absorb it within a short period of time. Afterwards, they were often left emotionally overwhelmed, while foster carers were left supporting the aftermath.

It was experiences like these that played a significant role in my decision to become a counsellor. I repeatedly witnessed painful experiences being uncovered and then left without sufficient emotional support or containment. Things would be picked up and then dropped again. I wanted a deeper understanding of trauma, attachment and emotional development so that I could better support children carrying these experiences.

My counselling work has reinforced my belief that children need more than information about their past. They need opportunities to process what that information means to them. Understanding your story can be an important part of healing, but only when there is a safe and supportive relationship in which that story can be explored.

If I could change one thing within the system, it would be to place relationships at the centre of every decision. Children need stability, consistency and emotional safety. They need adults who remain curious rather than reactive, who seek to understand rather than judge, and who recognise that behaviour is often communication.

Working with looked-after children has transformed my understanding of trauma, resilience and healing. While I have witnessed the impact of profound adversity, I have also witnessed remarkable strength. Time and again, children have shown me that healing does not happen because someone has all the answers. Healing happens when a child feels seen, understood and accepted.

Above all, this work has taught me that relationships matter. For many looked-after children, one consistent, compassionate relationship can make an enormous difference. Whether we are counsellors, foster carers, teachers or social workers, our willingness to truly see the child behind the behaviour may be one of the most powerful gifts we can offer.

Every child I have worked with has taught me something about courage, resilience and the human capacity to keep hoping despite adversity. While I feel privileged to walk alongside them for part of their journey, I also feel deeply humbled by the trust they place in me. To be invited into a child's world, to hear their story, and to witness their growth and strength is something I never take for granted. It is both a privilege and a humbling experience to be part of that journey.