Our bodies hold clues: symptoms, feelings, thoughts. We may not think we have much to go on, yet thorough EFT detective work can help unlock what’s unknown or hidden and lead us to resolution.
2026: The Scenario
England. The FIFA World Cup is over for another four years, at least for the general public - our best performance in sixty years. It's August. I’m on an EFT retreat with a colleague and friend. We swap sessions. It’s my turn.
I feel like a little girl! No idea why, nor where that might have come from. Can’t relate it to anything, past or present. No traumatic, significant or unprocessed events in my awareness. This is all I’ve got. So, that’s where we start tapping: "Even though I feel like a little girl…"
Asking Curious Questions
We all have an Inner Child, a part that demands our attention, that flags up when something needs healing or releasing? But this doesn't feel like a part - I am the little girl! Is it that she’s not grown up? Never going to grow up? Can’t? Won’t? A Peter Pan, Christopher Robin? No, that doesn’t resonate. I am a little girl, not a grown-up.
I haven’t always felt this way. Maybe just this year? I wonder how old I am as this little girl. Maybe 6-7-8? (I'm now sixty-eight; hmm, 6-8, interesting!) So when would that be? 1964-1966. What memories do I have from that time? Nothing bad that I can remember. Oh, 1966, England wins the football World Cup! Still nothing bad is surfacing.
EFT Detective Work: Following the Clues
It seems very tenuous, but we work with what we have, tapping continuously. My Father - a huge football fan, and might have played professionally but for injury. And 8-year-old me, avidly cutting out pictures of England players from ¼lb TyPhoo tea packets, ‘helping’ Mother with the weekly shop. "No, not that one, I’ve got Bobby, it’s Jack Charlton I need!"
July 30th. The big moment. The Final, Wembley: England v West Germany. My family were at the seaside in a holiday let. There was a television (no TV at home.) Father was to watch in the lounge. My little girl self and younger sister were confined to the small bedroom that opened off it.
"Stay there. Stay put. Stay as you are. I don’t want to be disturbed. I’m watching the match. You must stay where you are." Ah yes, I remember that! We tapped around and around with those phrases. I began to feel very cross, outraged. I felt stuck, trapped, with no escape. Why couldn’t I watch it with him? Why was I shut away? Left out? "You’re a little girl, not a grown-up." Bingo!
I’d followed those players. He knew I had. We were both invested in their performance. What a missed father-daughter opportunity! Sadness. Still tapping. Did he watch alone? Probably. Where was Mother – minding baby brother? Probably.
My memories are often auditory – noises, tone of voice, words. Why don’t I remember any sounds through the wall – cheers, the crowd erupting when a goal was scored? Years later, Father watched sport on mute. Maybe he had back then?
I’d imagined it was night-time, and we’d been sent to bed early. Now I realised it was afternoon, the usual 3pm kick-off. The curtains had been drawn to keep out the sun. More crossness and outrage. More tapping. How different from Tuchel, England Manager 2026: "Let the kids stay up (for 1:30am kick-offs), never mind school next day."
Releasing and Transforming
I struggled to know what to do with all my indignation. I felt affronted, a giant lightweight blow-up beach ball expanding in my torso. Gradually, as we tapped, it transformed into a hot air balloon, fueled by crossness. That fine parachute material, lifting away in the wind.
So, no special treatment for you as the eldest then? No. I had hand-me-ups. If I asked questions like, "Can I…?" the reply was not "When you’re older" but "When your brother and sister are older!"
There was one time, though, when I was maybe 10/11/12 and invited on my own to Grandma’s. We had supper and watched The Last Night of the Proms on her TV. I'd never eaten melon before, and I had no idea how to tackle it. Embarrassed! Tap, tap. But I felt very grown-up that day.
My friend and I brought our tapping to a close and lunch was served. It included… melon.
An Intriguing Footnote
In 2026 I had unwittingly acted out Father’s behaviour – prioritised the football, watched England alone (as events had panned out – no one to share it with), away from home.
It's amazing how the body remembers. It's wonderful how tapping and EFT detective work enables us to access and process material that simply isn’t in our conscious awareness in order to neutralise, resolve or release it.
And a final word from the little girl, now a grown-up: "Ask curious questions, you really don’t need much to get started. Tap. Follow the leads. Play detective!"
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Hilary Jones is an Accredited EFTi Master Trainer and Mentor specialising in the relief of emotional and physical pains and a wide spectrum of traumas.
Photo by Ibrahim guetar on Unsplash
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