From Fragmented to Whole: How Internal Family Systems Helped Me Find My Inner Calm

My first experience with a therapist was at the early age of 13. My parents had gotten divorced, and my dad had the foresight to take us to an absolutely lovely woman who provided a safe and supportive container for my brother and me to process what was happening. This normalized therapy for me, to an extent. Later, in college, when I found the need for talk therapy again, I didn’t have the social or cultural stigma built into my psyche to stop me from seeking help. And when I entered the workforce and had a different set of issues that needed an outside perspective, I turned to therapy once more.

But it was only in my early 30s—after about two decades of engaging with various talk therapists—that I started to feel a quiet frustration building. About 1.5 years into working with my latest therapist, I found myself exhausted. Big feelings would come up—rage, grief, despair—and while she helped me track the stories beneath them, it felt like I was trapped in a loop. I’d say, “I know it’s because of my mom’s misattunement,” or whatever old wound was resurfacing… “but how do I change how I feel right now?”

To be clear, I didn’t yell at her, but inside, it felt like a scream. Because no matter how much I understood something, the understanding didn’t transform the pain. Insight wasn’t translating into shift. And if I couldn’t feel differently, what was the point of all this work?

That’s when Internal Family Systems entered the scene.

Discovering a Different Way In

A mentor suggested I read No Bad Parts by Dr. Richard Schwartz, the founder of IFS. One phrase stopped me in my tracks: “All parts are welcome.” It sounded lovely. But also… impossible? What about the part of me that spiraled into doom, or the one that numbed with food and Netflix? Those parts felt like problems to fix—not pieces to welcome.

But something in me was curious. And I’m glad I followed that.

After reading No Bad Parts, and finding IFS guided meditations, I started to notice my internal world. And with that noticing, came a different set of tools. Not the analytical, strategic tools that used therapy and psycho-education as a way to mentally understand myself, but instead one that gently encouraged me to slow down and listen.

So, one night, in a moment of deep anxiety, I did something different. I paused. Placed a hand on my heart. And asked gently, “What’s going on in there?” A response came—not a voice, exactly, but a presence. A frantic energy. A part of me that was terrified of messing everything up.

For the first time, I didn’t push it away. I got curious. I saw that this wasn’t all of me—it was just one part, doing its best to keep me safe. Just that act of hearing it, naming it, and creating space so I could be with it allowed that anxiety to quiet, to reveal what more it carried. The felt sense of anxiety was simply a messenger, and only by creating the space to give it attention, could it truly transform.

Instead of analyzing this anxious part, I asked it questions: What are you afraid would happen if you stopped? How long have you been doing this job?

It responded with memories—childhood moments when I felt alone or had to prove my worth. This anxious part had taken on a role: to keep me alert, to keep me achieving, so I wouldn’t feel the shame of not being enough.

And once I truly heard it, it softened.

This was the game-changer. I didn’t need to outsmart my parts. I needed to build a relationship with them.

As meditation teacher Tara Brach says, “The first step in healing is presence.” And that’s what IFS teaches: when we meet our pain (or parts that carry pain, anxiety, shame, etc) with curiosity instead of judgment, something shifts.

Meeting the Inner Cast

As I got deeper into this work, working with an IFS-therapist, more parts revealed themselves: the inner critic, the one who plans endlessly, the one who numbs out with food or scrolling. Each had its own history, its own fears, its own story.

But the most surprising discovery? Underneath all of them was me. What IFS calls the Self—a calm, clear, compassionate presence that had been there all along.

The Self isn’t something you perform into being. It’s the essence of who you already are. Dr. Schwartz writes, “Your Self is never damaged. It can’t be. It’s just obscured by the parts that carry pain.”

And once I began leading my system from Self—not from reactivity or fear—everything started to change. That anxious part I first met? The one who was always bracing, scanning, prepping for worst-case scenarios? She softened. I remember one specific morning—I had woken up with the usual tightness in my chest and urge to do something to fix it. But instead of spiraling, I paused. I turned inward and simply asked her, “What do you need right now?” The answer came immediately: reassurance. Not a plan, not a solution—just to know she wasn’t alone. I placed my hand on my heart, breathed with her, and let her feel my presence. And in that moment, the panic didn’t take over. I didn’t numb or distract. I just stayed—with her, with me.

That was the shift. She didn’t disappear—but she no longer had to run the show. For the first time, there was a sense of trust growing in my system. Trust that someone—me—was home and capable of holding it all.

Why IFS Might Be For You

If you’ve ever felt stuck in loops, at war with yourself, or overwhelmed by inner noise, IFS offers something radically different. It doesn’t treat you like a project to fix. It teaches you to listen—to your own internal family—with compassion.

It helped me stop managing my healing and start experiencing it.

I felt more integrated. More at home inside myself. More whole.

And now, I walk with others through this process. Whether you’re dealing with burnout, heartbreak, anxiety, or just a sense that something’s off—I want you to know: you're not broken. You’re just carrying protectors who need to be heard. And under it all, your Self is still there.

Ready to meet your parts? Here's one place to begin:

Try this:

• Sit quietly.

• Place a hand on your heart or wherever feels grounding.

• Ask inside: “Is there a part of me that wants my attention right now?”

• Whatever comes—an emotion, sensation, image—just notice it. Say hello.

• You don’t have to fix anything. You just have to be present.

And if you want a guide, I’m here.

Sign up for my newsletter or explore my coaching offerings to start your own IFS journey.