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I came across this illustration years ago. Initially, I didn’t verify it. I used it in counseling as a metaphor because it fit so well. Eventually, I checked—and sure enough, it’s true. It’s now one of my go-to images to describe the insidious and persistent problem of human control, insecurity, and fear of man. You can Google it, too.
Take Mable, for instance. Her dad was critical, discouraging, and consistently harsh. Though she’s long out of her father’s home, the emotional ceiling he installed still hovers over her life. She’s a trained flea. She longs for approval so deeply that she makes harmful relationship decisions. Biff’s father was equally abrasive—a perfectionist who demanded excellence. To survive, Biff became a passive perfectionist: he never tries, so he never fails. It’s the illusion of control. He avoids risk and remains emotionally paralyzed. His wife feels like she’s married to a ghost. Biff is a trained flea, too.
Then there’s Brice. He’s the opposite of passive. He’s driven, independent, and controlling. His father was disengaged, while his mother nitpicked and manipulated him. Brice made an internal vow: “I’ll never be like my dad or let a woman control me.” Now, no one gets close. He’s a trained flea. Marge was only nine when her dad left. Her world was crushed, and she grew up not knowing how to relate to men without fearing abandonment. Now twenty-seven, she obsesses over her image. Her worth rises and falls based on male attention. She’s a trained flea, too.
To some degree, we’re all trained fleas. Every one of us has been conditioned by life, by relationships, by voices that told us what we could or couldn’t be. Sin has put us all in a jar. That jar is called the fear of man. For different reasons, and in various ways, we have learned to yield control of our identity and choices to the opinions of others. The stories differ. The patterns are similar. The result is the same: captivity. The heartbreaking irony is that, in Christ, the lid is gone. “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36). Yet many believers still live as though the lid remains. If you are trying to help someone who is still in the jar, start with these discerning questions:
At the core, the issue is always the same: the desire to be loved, accepted, or not rejected. That craving is not evil—it is human. But when shaped by fear and shame rather than gospel affection, it becomes idolatry. That’s how people become emotionally trained: they’ve been repeatedly “hit” by the lid of conditional love. To get hit is to be hurt. So they duck. They learn to avoid pain. Ducking is a state of being, but they forfeit growth.
The “hits” most often come from the mouths of parents—unkind words, criticism, rejection, impatience, harsh expectations. Over time, these words shape a child’s self-perception. The child adapts. She learns to duck. She modifies herself to avoid conflict or withdrawal of affection. In time, her mind becomes captured by what Paul calls a stronghold—a fortress of distorted thoughts that governs her behavior (2 Corinthians 10:3–6). This kind of “hit avoidance” becomes comfortable. Predictable. Familiar.
The abused child doesn’t have the luxury to fight back or walk away—not until she’s older. By then, it’s often too late. The habits are hardwired. She leaves the home, but the stronghold follows. Relationships become arenas of fear and management. She thinks a boyfriend will fix it—“He loves me.” But she cannot discern how past shaping influences drive her desire for love. Her craving feels like freedom, but it’s actually bondage to an idol she doesn’t recognize.
When the relationship fails—as it often does—she is devastated and bitter, unable to identify the true issue. She may conclude she’s bad at choosing men or that all men are the problem. In truth, she is still living under the lid. Her past continues to direct her choices—even after the people are gone.
Taking the lid off is not enough. Leaving the toxic home, ending the relationship, and moving away—those are not the wrong steps. But they don’t fix the deeper issue. The bondage isn’t the environment—it’s the mind. This internal problem is why many trained fleas repeat cycles: multiple partners, failed marriages, constant people-pleasing, perfectionism, and withdrawal. She may have left her father’s house, but her father’s voice still lives in her head. If you want to help her, you must deal with her thought life. This approach requires identifying a few core strongholds:
There are three primary barriers to gospel transformation in a person like this:
You will need to become that kind of friend. It will be hard. She will interpret your correction as criticism. Even gentle care may feel like an attack. Her heart is sunburned, and every touch stings. But your role is clear. You must be Spirit-led, truth-speaking, and love-saturated. You must not compromise. But you must not grow cold. If you do it well, she will begin to see what is actually driving her behavior. She will begin to recognize how deeply her past controls her present. The transformation will be slow—but it will be real.
“And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all” (1 Thessalonians 5:14).
Ultimately, your goal is not her emotional recovery, better choices, or healthier habits. Your aim is Christ. Only the gospel can give her a new identity. She must come to know that the only opinion that truly matters is His—and in Christ, His opinion is fixed: she is loved, accepted, and secure.
That kind of love is foreign to her. She has only known conditional relationships: a father who loved based on obedience, a boyfriend who loved based on performance, and a child who responds when she gives in. But Jesus is different. His love is unearned, unchanging, and unwavering. She may understand this intellectually, but to live it is another story. You will walk with her as she learns to unlearn everything she thought was love. And you’ll help her build a new framework—one shaped not by fear, but by the gospel.
Helping a trained flea means helping someone relearn what love, freedom, and identity truly are. The gospel is the only school where that transformation takes place.
Rick launched the Life Over Coffee global training network in 2008 to bring hope and help for you and others by creating resources that spark conversations for transformation. His primary responsibilities are resource creation and leadership development, which he does through speaking, writing, podcasting, and educating.
In 1990 he earned a BA in Theology and, in 1991, a BS in Education. In 1993, he received his ordination into Christian ministry, and in 2000 he graduated with an MA in Counseling from The Master’s University. In 2006 he was recognized as a Fellow of the Association of Certified Biblical Counselors (ACBC).