Reading Time: 12 minutes
As I sit at my desk and begin to type, I notice a feeling of anxiety forming in my chest. Almost like when you get butterflies in your stomach, but not the good kind of butterflies. This was a bad idea. You shouldn’t have even thrown this idea out there in the first place. Who are you, of all people, to try and explain something like this? Abort mission. Cut the tapes. It’s not worth putting yourself out there at the risk that it ends up not landing the way you were intending.
I pause. I take a deep breath. I close my eyes and place my hand over my chest (I find this helps me to feel more grounded in my body). I get it. It makes sense to feel anxious about putting yourself out there. I know you’re just trying to protect us and keep us from some kind of rejection or humiliation. But I got this. I got us. It’s okay to ease back just a little bit for now.
That first voice? I like to call her my “socially cautious inner critic.” When I picture this part of me, I get an image of some kind of big sister figure with a rough-around-the-edges kind of attitude and an air of irritability and self-righteousness. And if I take a look behind her? I usually find a version of myself that I picture as a black sheep in whatever clothing is trendy at the time, trying her damndest to blend in with the people around her. Timid, anxious, and constantly worried that people are going to figure out that she has no idea what she’s talking about (my “imposter syndrome” self).
But that second voice? That’s Self talking. In other words, it’s just…me. I know that I am in Self energy when I am able to be calm, curious, compassionate, creative, open, and empathic. Not just towards other people, but also towards myself. We all have a core Self. We’re born with it, and it’s not something that can be taken away from us. But over time, with the various and unique life experiences and traumas that we face, it can feel like it gets buried (more on that in a bit).
The idea of Self and Self energy has spiritual and traditional underpinnings. Some people describe their Self as their soul. For others, it’s their North Star. And for others, it’s who they are at their core. Me? I like to describe Self as being who we are before the world gets its hands on us — a way of being for all before we learn and internalize what’s “right” and what’s “wrong,” before we learn from others that we are “too much” or “not enough.” However you conceptualize the idea of Self, just know that it’s in there, and it knows you are worthy simply for existing. Your very own personal, internal compass. A sun amongst all of the clouds.

If you’ve been a client of mine for some time, you’ve probably heard me mention Internal Family Systems Therapy, or parts work, at least a few times. You’re joking, right? You never shut up about it. Ah, there she is again. My inner critic. But this time I sense her presence in a more playful manner. And she’s right. I talk about parts work a lot. I have a running joke with the people I’ve supervised that they’re probably tired of me talking about parts and I’ve given full permission for them to roll their eyes at me at this point. Don’t forget to put strawberries on the grocery list this week. If I had a dollar for every time I said the word “parts” in session with clients, I would be a rich, rich woman.
How amazing would it be, for ourselves and the world, if we were able to be in Self energy all the time? I fantasize about all of the things that would be different, but the truth is that it’s just not realistic. You left the clothes in the dryer last night. And aside from being unrealistic, we would also lose a lot of who we are. So let’s wade into the waters of parts work for just a bit (my nerdy learner self wanted to say “let’s take a deep dive,” but she would have us here for hours), and learn a little bit about what parts are, why we have them and how they develop, and how we can get closer to Self.
YOU FORGOT TO CALL THE PHARMACY YESTERDAY.
Okay, that one got my attention. I notice a sense of urgency in my head and in my chest, like a frantic energy. I’m used to my “task manager” popping up pretty consistently in my day-to-day, but she has gotten good at trusting Self to take note of her reminders and come back to them later, when there is more time to attend to them. But she’s right. I’ve forgotten three times now to call the pharmacy this week. So I pause. Call the pharmacy. Refill my prescription. And I notice that frantic energy dissipating a bit. I take a moment to let this part of me know that I genuinely appreciate the (fourth!) reminder, and she feels content enough to return to her list-making behind the scenes. And I continue my writing.
So what the heck do I mean when I say that we all have parts of ourselves? Good question. You’ve done a ton of yapping and haven’t actually given your readers any information yet (You’re familiar with this voice by now, no? I’m sure I don’t have to name her). Internal Family Systems Therapy operates under the theory that we all have multiplicity of the mind — something that is called structural dissociation. Structural dissociation explains how individuals cope with traumatic experiences by compartmentalizing their personality into distinct parts.
And before we continue, let’s address the elephant in the room first: not all dissociation is pathological, and we all do it to some degree. Some of the most common, mundane examples of dissociation that we’ve all probably experienced a number of times include highway hypnosis (like when I was driving to work the other morning and completely missed my exit because my brain was on autopilot and somewhere else entirely) or daydreaming (remember being in school and your teacher calling your name five times before you actually heard her because you were staring out the window?).
Dissociation also commonly occurs in the context of interpersonal relationships, and for good, evolutionary purpose. For example, if your parents would routinely become irate and insulting towards you as a child whenever you made a small mistake, you likely didn’t have the resources, internally or externally, to say to yourself, “What gives? I didn’t do anything wrong. I just made a mistake. I’m only human.” You may know this somewhere deep down inside, but in order to maintain relational connectedness to your parents (you know, for physical and emotional survival), you may learn, “In order for my parents to love me and be kind towards me, I have to be more careful and stop making mistakes.” You internalize that being imperfect or inconvenient means that you are bad, and that being good equates to your parents being happy with you. You learn to adjust your behaviors accordingly for the purpose of love and acceptance. And this makes complete sense.
Here’s an example that I give to most people — one that may feel completely insignificant on the surface, but is internalized by the individual in a way that shapes their inner world:
Janie is in the 5th grade. She is someone who is naturally gifted in the academic realm. She doesn’t have to try too hard or study too hard; she just gets good grades. But one day, she gets a test back from her teacher, and she doesn’t do too well. Her teacher makes a comment to her along the lines of, “I’m disappointed in you. You are usually one of my stand-out students. I want to see you do better next time.” As someone who is not used to hearing this kind of feedback, Janie is left feeling embarrassed, ashamed, and like a disappointment — emotions that are very difficult for most humans to cope with, let alone a young child. In response to these painful and uncomfortable emotions, and in an effort to preserve her ego and her confidence in her academic abilities, Janie develops a perfectionistic part of herself. This does not happen consciously. She doesn’t think to herself, “I don’t want to feel those emotions ever again, so I’m going to develop a part of myself that protects me from feeling them.” It happens subconsciously. And the role and purpose of this perfectionism? Well, if Janie is making sure to study all the time, raise her hand all the time in class to ask questions, staying after school to get more practice with her teacher, and focusing her weekends on school work rather than time with friends, then she has a better chance of getting good grades in the future, and avoiding having to feel like a failure. Sounds like her perfectionism is doing something really important for her!
What happens, though, is that this part of Janie, and its intended job, will likely start to generalize over time. So what was once protecting Janie from feeling embarrassed and like a failure in the eyes of her teachers may turn into a drive for perfectionism in all areas of her adult life in the future (such as her relationships, her career, or her physical health). This perfectionism, which we have recognized as being very well-intended and helpful in some scenarios, may now actually start to impede Janie’s life. By trying to achieve perfection at work, Janie is missing out on a lot of time with her husband and children, causing feelings of frustration and upset on their part. That very part of herself that she was trying to protect — that young version of herself that felt embarrassed, ashamed, and like a disappointment — is now getting triggered again and again by the very actions that are trying to prevent it in the first place.
Maybe you had caregivers that, directly or indirectly, delivered the message that no matter what you do, it’s never good enough — so you were left with a part of yourself that internalized and believed, “I can’t do anything right.”
Maybe your social circle as a young child consistently let you know, through words or actions, that you just don’t fit in and you’re not like everyone else — “There’s something wrong with me.”
Maybe your parents were kind and loving, but they were also super busy with and distracted by work, so anytime you tried to tell them something about your day, you felt dismissed or ignored — “People don’t care.”
Maybe you had a sibling that had complex medical needs, requiring more time and attention from your parents than was given to you — “I’m not important.”
Maybe you experienced abuse or neglect at the hands of your caregivers — “I can’t trust anyone.”
Maybe you only received love, attention, and acceptance from your caregivers when you scored the most goals on the field — “I am lovable if I perform and meet certain expectations.”
Whatever your individual, unique story is, we all have deep, deep wounds that we hold onto. And if we wore those wounds and hurts on our sleeves all the time, we just wouldn’t be able to function. So what happens? We have parts of ourselves that develop over time to protect, help, comfort, self-soothe, and guard us from those deep pains.
IFS is a therapeutic modality that helps us to explore our inner world more deeply. This work allows us to gain a better understanding of all of the different parts that make up our internal system, the roles and responsibilities of these parts, and the fears, concerns, and burdens that they carry for us. You’re getting too head-y. Use something that people can actually relate to. If you’ve ever seen the movie Inside Out (and if you haven’t, you absolutely should go do so!), you can use this as a great illustration and example of how this works. Remember how Joy is constantly working so hard to make sure that Riley is feeling happy and having a good day? Her sole purpose is to make sure that Riley is living her best life. And remember how Anger shows up when he’s trying to help Riley stand up for herself? I imagine that Joy feels like Anger is “stepping on her toes” in these moments and making it difficult for her to do her job, but Anger’s role is just as important in Riley’s life. Sadness seems to get a bad rep in this movie, but by the end, we learn that she actually has a really good purpose (and ends up saving the day, ultimately).

Think of your parts as your own little family that exists within your psyche (hence the name of the model). They all somehow function in relation to each other like a well-oiled machine, and just like in most families, some members tend to get along better while others tend to be at odds with each other.
This work not only allows you to learn more about your internal system, but it also creates space within yourself to eventually let go of some of those heavy burdens you and your various parts have been holding onto for a very long time and to learn new ways of existing within your (internal and external) world.
Remember our conversation earlier about Self? Here’s where Self comes into play. One of the most important building blocks in IFS is regaining our ability to return to and be in Self energy. This, in and of itself, can be a confusing concept. Think of Self energy as a state of being, whereas activation by our various parts is more a state of doing. Returning to Self energy allows us to relate to our parts from a place of curiosity, compassion, calmness, and kindness…rather than having our different parts running the show all the time and reactively trying to “one up” each other.
I once heard the saying, “Feelings are like children. We don’t want them driving the car, but we also can’t shove them in the trunk.” I think this very accurately describes the type of relational healing we are trying to do within ourselves as it relates to our parts. Our parts are so used to “driving the car” all the time, so to speak. Being in charge. Running the show. Not because they’re trying to wreak havoc on our lives, but because they’re trying to help and protect us.
By returning to Self and learning what it feels like to be in Self energy, we can help these parts of us to trust again — trust that maybe they don’t need to be working so hard all the time and that they don’t need to be in the driver’s seat. Maybe they can be copiloting in the passenger seat, or informing us from the back. Our goal is not to get rid of any of them…in fact, if you decide to dive deeper into the world of IFS, you’ll quickly learn that this is actually not possible (or desirable). Our parts will always be a part of us. Are you getting tired of saying that word yet? You really need to find another way to get your point across. And that’s a really beautiful thing — they are the puzzle pieces that make up our identity. Our personality. Our story.
The hope is that we can still have all of our parts and their different agendas informing the decisions that we make, but rather than operating from a place of fear, they can learn to operate from a place of trust. Remember at the end of Inside Out when Riley and her emotions learn (and accept) that they can co-exist together, and her core memories are made up of more than just one emotion (Ugh, cue the tears!)? That is my hope for all of you reading this, in a nutshell — that you can find a space where you feel safe enough to welcome in, accept, and show love to all of your parts and what they are trying to do for you. And that you can learn and truly believe that you are not just your anger, just your grief, or just your mistakes. All of those things are just a part of you, but you are so much more, in sum. Those clouds in our proverbial skies are important. They remind us of our pain and where we come from. But sometimes, it would be nice if we could move those clouds to the side, just for a bit, so that we can see the sun behind them. Which was there all along.
If you are interested in learning more about and exploring how Internal Family Systems Therapy can benefit you and your relationship with yourself, click here to get started on your journey.
Until next time,
Jenna
**If you are interested in reading more about IFS, I recommend the following books:
“No Bad Parts” by Richard Schwartz
“Parts Work: An Illustrated Guide to Your Inner World” by Tom Holmes
Jenna is passionate about helping individuals find their voice and inner strength to heal from relational trauma and develop a healthy sense of self. She uses somatic interventions, like EMDR and ego-states work, to help her clients learn more about themselves on a deeper level to build self-trust and make lasting change.
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