Webb Therapy Uncategorized Sigmund Freud’s classic Defence Mechanism’s

Sigmund Freud’s classic Defence Mechanism’s

Projection: Attributing one’s unacceptable feelings or desires to someone else. For example, if a bully constantly ridicules a peer about insecurities, the bully might be projecting his own struggle with self-esteem onto the other person.

Denial: Refusing to recognize or acknowledge real facts or experiences that would lead to anxiety. For instance, someone with substance use disorder might not be able to clearly see his problem.

Repression: Blocking difficult thoughts from entering into consciousness, such as a trauma survivor shutting out a tragic experience.

Regression: Reverting to the behaviour or emotions of an earlier developmental stage.

Rationalization: Justifying a mistake or problematic feeling with seemingly logical reasons or explanations.

Displacement: Redirecting an emotional reaction from the rightful recipient to another person altogether. For example, if a manager screams at an employee, the employee doesn’t scream back—but the employee may yell at her partner later that night.

Reaction Formation: Behaving or expressing the opposite of one’s true feelings. For instance, a man who feels insecure about his masculinity might act overly aggressive.

Sublimation: Channelling sexual or unacceptable urges into a productive outlet, such as work or a hobby.

Intellectualization: Focusing on the intellectual rather than emotional consequences of a situation. For example, if a roommate unexpectedly moved out, the other person might conduct a detailed financial analysis rather than discussing their hurt feelings.

Compartmentalization: Separating components of one’s life into different categories to prevent conflicting emotions.

Related Post

Addressing Paranoia in CounsellingAddressing Paranoia in Counselling

Retrieved from Issue 346 of Institute Inbrief 20/01/2021

Paranoia: Definition and levels

When a person believes that others are “out to get them”, trying to stalk or harm them, or paying excessive attention to them for no reason, they may be experiencing paranoia. Occurring in many mental health conditions, paranoia is most often present in psychotic disorders. It involves intense anxious or fearful feelings and thoughts, most often related to persecution, threat, or conspiracy (Mental Health America, n.d.). It can be a symptom of illnesses such as schizophrenia, brief psychosis, paranoid personality, psychotic depression, mania with psychotic features, delusional disorders, or substance abuse (chronic or momentary) (Barron, 2016).

Mental health experts have identified three levels of paranoia:

  1. Paranoid personality disorder (PPD): Characterised by odd or eccentric ways of thinking, PPD involves an unrelenting mistrust and suspicion of others when there is no reason to be suspicious. It is one of the personality disorders in the DSM-5’s Cluster A, along with schizoid and schizotypal personality disorders. Thought to be the mildest form of paranoia, a person with PPD may still be able to function in relationships, employment, and social activities. The onset is typically in early adulthood and is more common in men than in women.
     
  2. Delusional (paranoid) disorder: Found in the DSM-5 chapter, “Schizophrenia spectrum and other psychotic disorders”, this is a condition in which an individual holds one major false belief or delusion; it will often be an implausible but not bizarre delusion. A delusional disorder typically occurs without any other signs of mental illness. So a person might think that others are talking behind their back if they have a persecutory delusion, or believe that they need immediate medical attention for a (non-existent) medical problem if they have a somatic delusion. This condition is slightly more common in women than men.
     
  3. Schizophrenia with bizarre delusions: People with this condition do not function well in society and need consistent treatment (Sunrise House, 2018; WebMD, 2018).This is the most severe form of paranoia, involving bizarre delusions without basis, such as that aliens are trying to abduct them, or that an unseen enemy is removing their internal organs and replacing them with others’ organs.


This article is about Levels (1) and (2), the paranoid personality disorder (PPD) and delusional disorder, which you may encounter more commonly, either in your client or the client’s partner.

Identifying paranoia

We have several options for finding out what characteristics should be called “paranoid”: we can assess how we experience the person — how we describe them and what they evoke in us — and/or we can run with DSM-5 descriptions, which outline the clinical symptoms we can observe specifically with the paranoid personality disorder and delusional disorder. Let’s do both.

Descriptions of the paranoid person

Joe Navarro, who has written extensively about mental disorders, asked those who had either lived with or been victimised by paranoid personality types to describe this personality type from their experiences. Here is the list of some of their words:

“Angry, anxious, apprehensive, combative, complainer, contrarian, critical, delusional, demanding, difficult, distrustful, disturbed, eccentric, fanatic, fearful, fixated, fussy, guarded, hard-headed, inhospitable, intense, irrational, know-it-all, menacing, mentally rigid, moralistic, obsessed, odd, offensive, opinionated, sensitive, peculiar, pedantic, quarrelsome, questioning, rigid, scary, strict, stubborn, suspicious, tense, threatening, tightly-wound, touchy, unforgiving, unhappy, vindictive, wary, watchful, withdrawn” (Navarro, 2016).

What they evoke in us:

Experiencing a relationship with someone described by such intense words as those above cannot fail to bring forth a reaction in us. Laurel Nowak (2018) outlines the common feelings evoked by paranoid individuals in those with whom they are in relationship. She talks about: “feeling weighed down, negative, stressed, isolated from the people and activities you used to enjoy, and like you’re walking on eggshells”. Some have noted that it can feel to the other person like they are not being seen — ever — for who they truly are. The exaggerated negative spin on events or in response to statements occurs in the context of relating which lacks tenderness, humour, or comfort (Navarro, 2016). While these authors are describing feelings evoked in intimate relationships with paranoid individuals, they could have been talking about how therapists feel when faced with a client with this condition. Dealing with such a person eats away at the most robust sense of happiness and self-esteem. Here are the DSM-5 symptoms.

Paranoid Personality Disorder: DSM-5 symptoms description

According to the DSM-5, there are two primary diagnostic criteria for Paranoid Personality Disorder, of which Criterion A has seven sub-features. Four of these must be present to warrant a diagnosis of PPD:

Criterion A is: Global mistrust and suspicion of others’ motives which commences in adulthood. The seven sub-features of Criterion A are:

  1. Belief others are using, lying to, or harming them, without apparent evidence thereof
  2. Doubts about the loyalty and trustworthiness of friends and associates
  3. Inability to confide in others due to the belief that their confidence will be betrayed
  4. Interpretation of ambiguous or benign remarks as hurtful or threatening
  5. Holding grudges (being unforgiving of insults, injuries, or slights)
  6. In the absence of objective evidence, belief that their reputation or character are being assailed by others; retaliation in some manner
  7. Being jealous and suspicious without cause that intimate partners are being unfaithful.


Criterion B is that the above symptoms will not be during a psychotic episode in schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, or depressive disorder with psychotic features (American Psychiatric Association, 2013).

Delusional Disorder: DSM-5 definition and types

According to the DSM-5, this condition is characterised by at least one month of delusions but no other psychotic symptoms. Delusions are false beliefs based on incorrect inference about external reality that persist despite the evidence to the contrary; these beliefs are not ordinarily accepted by other members of the person’s culture or subculture. In delusional disorder (a moderate level of paranoia), a person experiences non-schizophrenic (i.e., not bizarre) delusions, such as that they are that they are being spied on. Because only thoughts are affected, a person with a delusional disorder can act normal and function in everyday life, although they may display paranoia or other symptoms related to their delusion. The five types of delusions people with this disorder have are:

  1. Erotomanic, where there is a belief that a person with higher social or financial standing (such as the president or a movie star) is in love with them; it can lead to stalking and obsession.
     
  2. Grandiose, involving the false belief that the person has a special power or ability not shared by anyone else (such as that they are extremely lucky and will always win at the casino).
     
  3. Jealous: a mistaken belief that a current or former loved one is unfaithful or even harmful. Paranoia about the loved one’s words or actions can be a symptom of these delusions.
     
  4. Persecutory, in which the common sense of the paranoia is that someone is out to get the individual, because the person believes they are being threatened, mistreated, or that they will be harmed in the future.
     
  5. Somatic: a delusion in which the individual believes that they have an illness, disability or physical defect (Sunrise House, 2018; Mental Health America, n.d.; Bourgeois, 2017).


Treating and coping with paranoia

For the therapist

First, we must note the common advice: a person suffering from either PPD or a delusional disorder needs to seek professional help, although most such individuals do not believe that they are paranoid; rather, they think they are perceptive, noticing things that no one else sees. In this sense, it can be difficult to get such a person to therapy, as the condition tends to be ego syntonic. If such an individual turns up in your therapy rooms, however, note that a referral to a medical doctor is in order to determine if medication is needed.

Medication generally is not a major focus of treatment for PPD; therapy is. However, medications, such as anti-anxiety, antidepressant, or anti-psychotic drugs, might be prescribed if the person’s symptoms are extreme, or if he or she also suffers from an associated psychological problem, such as anxiety or depression (WebMD, 2018).

With delusional disorders, the diagnosed individual begins a combination of medication and psychotherapy. The anti-psychotic medication helps the individual improve enough to be able to understand reality and the need for therapeutic help. In milder cases, the individual may receive anti-anxiety medications or anti-depressants, which allows them to undergo therapy, where they learn coping skills, how to recognise delusions as false, and how to manage stress or difficult feelings. Hospitalisation may sometimes be indicated to stop the person from harming themselves or others during violent delusions (Sunrise House, 2018).

As the condition affects the client’s thought patterns and beliefs, it can be worked with effectively using cognitive behavioural therapy, which transforms the unrealistic, maladaptive thoughts by replacing them with more helpful, realistic adaptive thoughts. In addition, some therapists have observed that psychodynamic work, such as object relations, can help paranoid clients look into reasons for becoming mistrustful and suspicious which arise from early childhood relationships (Everyday Health, n.d.).

You might be asking, “Wait a minute; chief symptoms are a tendency to be suspicious and an inability to trust. How, then, can a therapist make any reasonable headway with such a client, given that trust is the basis for any solid therapeutic alliance?” If you twigged to this issue, congratulations; you have nailed the problem: how to keep the paranoid client in therapy long enough for enough trust to be built so that real progress can be made. Building trust is where the challenge is, no matter what modality is being used with the client.

To help a client in relationship with a person living with paranoia

You are likely to see the partner of a person acting paranoid. Once it is established that some form of paranoia is indeed the diagnosis, some clear guidelines exist for helping the partner. Some of the following tips also hold true for therapists working with this client population.

Setting boundaries. The paranoid person needs compassion and understanding, true, but that does not equate to acceptance of poor treatment on the grounds that the person has a disorder and is frustrated. Clear lines of what is acceptable and what is not must be drawn; those expectations for decent treatment must be communicated clearly, including around the issue of refusing to collude with delusional thinking (compromising one’s own needs) because of the person’s paranoia or fear.

Practicing self-care. For therapists and partners alike, this one is paramount! Dealing with this disorder is exhausting and sometimes heart-breaking. Those in close relationships (whether intimate or therapeutic) with paranoid individuals must have regular, solid habits of self-care. All the usual practices go into this category: relaxation/meditation, exercise, decent diet, support systems activated, and perhaps journalling or creative work to vent frustrations. Particularly for partners of those with PPD or a delusional disorder, maintaining a healthy social life — not allowing oneself to become isolated — is important.

Don’t abandon own stance, but empathise with their fear. If either the partner of the paranoid person or you, as therapist, hear an accusation that seems really “off” — totally unfounded — you can employ the tactic of empathising with the feeling, but not necessarily agreeing with the facts (though outright disagreeing doesn’t work, either). Carrie Baron, M.D., and Director of the Resilience Program at Dell Medical School in Texas, explains that consoling the person and refuting what they have said will not likely alter any paranoid convictions or delusions. What works better is “observation, reflection, curiosity and openness without judgment”, which lead to better understanding (Barron, 2016). Thus, the partner could say to the paranoid person, “I can imagine you’re worried if you think that the inheritance you counted on for your retirement might be taken away through your dad marrying. Have you observed any behaviour that made you question her motives?” (curiosity). However they do it, partners of people with any form of paranoia must look beneath the surface before getting swept up in the partner’s claims (Barron, 2016).

Recognise that the paranoid person can still contribute to life. Because of the fact that mild or moderate forms of paranoia are circumscribed, showing up only in particular thoughts and delusions, only those involved or accused may be aware of the psychopathology of the condition. The person can thus contribute to family life, work, and aspects of social life in positive ways, which you as therapist can help highlight for the partner.

Having either a client or a client’s partner who is paranoid is not easy, but the worst heartbreak and chaos can be avoided if the person can engage treatment, including medication when necessary.

References:

  1. American Psychiatric Association. (2013). Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.(5th Edition). Washington, DC.: APA.
  2. Barron, C. (2016). 7 Tips for coping with a paranoid partner. Psychology Today. Retrieved on 4 December, 2018, from: Website.
  3. Bourgeois, J. (2017). Delusional disorder. Medscape. Retrieved on 9 December, 2018, from: Website.
  4. Everyday Health. (n.d.) Coping with paranoia in a loved one. Everyday Health. Retrieved on 4 December, 2018, from: Website.
  5. Mental Health America. (n.d.). Paranoia and delusional disorders. Mental Health America. Retrieved on 6 December, 2018, from: Website.
  6. Navarrro, J. (2016). The paranoid partner: Identifying the paranoid personality in relationships. Psychology Today. Retrieved on 4 December, 2018, from: Website.
  7. Nowak, L. (2018). Paranoid personality disorder and relationships: Moving past fear, together. Bridges to Recovery. Retrieved on 4 December, 2018, from: Website.
  8. Sunrise House. (2018). Is there a difference between paranoia and delusional disorders? American Addiction Centers. Retrieved on 9 December, 2018, from: Website.
  9. WebMD. (2018). Paranoid personality disorder. WebMD LLC. Retrieved on 9 December, 2018, from: Website.

Polyvagal Theory and Trauma – Dr. Stephen PorgesPolyvagal Theory and Trauma – Dr. Stephen Porges

Stephen Porges, psychiatry professor and researcher, on the polyvagal theory he developed to understand our reactions to trauma:

[Paraphrased] Polyvagal theory articulates three branches of the autonomic nervous system (ANS) that evolved from primitive vertebrates to mammals. First, there is a system known as ‘freeze’, which involves death feigning or immobilisation. Second, the ANS has a ‘fight or flight’ system, which is a mobilisation system. And third, with mammals, there is what Porges calls, a social engagement system (SES), which can detect features of safety, and actually communicate them to another. The SES may also be referred to by some as ‘rest and digest’, which Porges theory suggests is a function of the Vagus Nerve – the tenth cranial nerve, a very long and wandering nerve that begins at the medulla oblongata. When an individual experiences feelings of safety (within an SES state), the autonomic nervous system can support health restoration. In terms of dealing with a life threat, an ordinary person will most likely go into a feigning death, dissociative state of ‘freeze’.

Polyvagal theory in psychotherapy offers emotional co-regulation as an interactive process between therapist and client which engages the social engagement system of both therapist and client. Social engagement provides experiences of safety, trust, mutuality and reciprocity in which we are open to receiving another person, just as they are.

The following extract has been retrived from https://www.theguardian.com/society/2019/jun/02/stephen-porges-interview-survivors-are-blamed-polyvagal-theory-fight-flight-psychiatry-ace

Polyvagal theory has made inroads into medical and psycho-therapeutic treatment, but how should it inform how people treat each other?


“When we become a polyvagal-informed society, we’re functionally capable of listening to and witnessing other people’s experiences, we don’t evaluate them. Listening is part of co-regulation: we become connected to others and this is what I call our biological imperative. So when you become polyvagal-informed you have a better understanding of your evolutionary heritage as a mammal. We become aware of how our physiological state is manifested, in people’s voices and in their facial expression, posture and basic muscle tone. If there’s exuberance coming from the upper part of a person’s face, and their voice has intonation modulation or what’s called prosody, we become attracted to the person. We like to talk to them – it’s part of our co-regulation.

So when we become polyvagal-informed, we start understanding not only the other person’s response but also our responsibility to smile and have inflection in our voice, to help the person we’re talking to help their body feel safe.”

Clink on the link below to hear Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, one of the world’s leading experts on developmental trauma, explain how our long-term health and happiness can be compromised by prior exposure to violence, emotional abuse, and other forms of traumatic stress.

https://youtu.be/53RX2ESIqsM

Internal Family Systems Therapy: Working with the Parts of OurselvesInternal Family Systems Therapy: Working with the Parts of Ourselves

Introduction

There is a moment in therapy that many practitioners recognise — the moment a client says something like, “Part of me wants to leave the relationship, but another part is terrified of being alone,” or “I know I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, but I can’t seem to stop.” These are not signs of ambivalence or contradiction. They are the natural language of a mind that is, at its core, multiple.

Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy, developed by American psychotherapist Richard Schwartz in the 1980s, offers a sophisticated, compassionate framework for understanding this inner multiplicity. Rather than treating internal conflict as pathology or weakness, IFS recognises that the human psyche is composed of distinct “parts” — each with its own perspective, feelings, motivations, and history. Far from being a burden, this internal family can become, through careful therapeutic work, a source of extraordinary resilience and self-understanding.

This article explores IFS therapy in depth: its theoretical foundations, its core concepts, how it aligns with and enriches other established therapeutic approaches, and why working with parts has become one of the most generative developments in contemporary psychotherapy.


The Architecture of the Inner World: Core IFS Concepts

The Self

At the heart of IFS is the concept of the Self — a capital-S, differentiated Self that is not a part but rather the core of who we are. Schwartz describes Self as characterised by what he calls the “Eight Cs”: curiosity, calm, clarity, compassion, confidence, creativity, courage, and connectedness. In a well-functioning psyche, Self leads the internal system with warmth and wisdom, much as a skilled and attuned parent might lead a family.

Crucially, IFS holds that Self is never damaged, even in the most traumatised individuals. It may be buried beneath layers of protective activity, but it is always there — always intact, always available. This is a radical and profoundly hopeful premise, and one that resonates deeply with strengths-based and person-centred traditions.

The Parts

IFS identifies three broad categories of parts:

Exiles are the youngest, most vulnerable parts of the psyche. They carry the emotional weight of painful past experiences — shame, grief, terror, humiliation, abandonment, worthlessness. Exiles are often frozen in the moment of the original wound, experiencing distress as though it is happening right now. Because their pain is so intense, the rest of the internal system works hard to keep them hidden, suppressed, and out of conscious awareness. The system exiles them to protect the individual from being overwhelmed.

Managers are the proactive protectors — the parts that work day-to-day to keep exiles contained and maintain a functional life. They might appear as the inner critic who drives someone to perfectionism, the hypervigilant part that constantly scans for danger, the pleaser who never says no, the workaholic who stays perpetually busy, or the intellectualiser who processes everything through logic to avoid feeling. Managers are often the parts clients first present with in therapy. They can be harsh, relentless, and deeply self-critical — but they are acting out of care. They are trying to prevent the exile’s pain from surfacing and disrupting the person’s life.

Firefighters are the reactive protectors who spring into action when an exile’s pain does break through — when a trigger cuts past the managers’ defences. Their methods are urgent and often extreme: dissociation, substance use, bingeing, self-harm, rage, sexual compulsion, suicidal ideation. Like emergency workers who will break down a door to stop a fire, firefighters care little for collateral damage. They want the pain stopped, now. What might look from the outside like destructive or self-defeating behaviour is, from the inside, a desperate act of protection.

The Burden

IFS introduces the concept of burdens — the extreme beliefs, emotions, and somatic experiences that parts carry as a result of trauma or adverse experience. A part might carry the burden of worthlessness, of being too much, of being fundamentally unlovable, of needing to be perfect to be safe. Burdens are not intrinsic to the part — they were taken on, often in childhood, and can be released through therapeutic work. This process, known as unburdening, is one of the most moving and clinically significant moments in IFS therapy.


The Therapeutic Process: Accessing Self-Leadership

From Pathologising to Curious Partnership

One of the most significant shifts IFS invites is a fundamental change in how clients — and therapists — relate to symptoms. Rather than treating, suppressing, or pathologising parts, IFS invites clients to approach them with curiosity and genuine interest. What is this part trying to do for me? What is it afraid would happen if it stopped? This shift transforms the therapeutic relationship with internal experience from adversarial to collaborative.

This is deeply congruent with person-centred therapy as developed by Carl Rogers. The Rogerian conditions of unconditional positive regard, empathy, and congruence are, in IFS, extended inward — the client is invited to offer those same conditions to their own parts. The therapist models and facilitates an attitude of deep, non-judgmental curiosity toward even the most frightening or destructive-seeming aspects of the client’s inner world.

The U-Turn

IFS uses the evocative phrase “the U-turn” to describe the core therapeutic movement: from focusing attention outward (on external people, situations, or events) to turning inward and attending to one’s own parts. This is not a withdrawal from relationship, but a deepening of internal attunement that ultimately enriches external relating.

Working with Protectors First

A key technical principle in IFS is that therapists never attempt to work directly with exiles until protective parts have been acknowledged, understood, and have given permission. Attempting to bypass protectors — to push clients toward vulnerable material before the system is ready — risks overwhelming the client, reinforcing the protectors’ sense that they need to work harder, and potentially retraumatising.

This principle reflects trauma-informed care at a systemic level. Trauma-informed practice recognises that what looks like resistance is actually protection, that the body and mind have wisdom in their defensive responses, and that safety must precede exploration. In IFS, the therapist earns the trust of the protective system before asking it to step aside — and this is done with patience, respect, and genuine appreciation for the parts’ efforts.


IFS and Attachment Theory: The Inner Attachment System

Attachment theory, originally articulated by John Bowlby and extended by Mary Ainsworth and many others, holds that human beings are biologically wired for connection, and that the patterns of early caregiving relationships shape our internal working models of self and other. These models — secure, anxious, avoidant, disorganised — become templates for how we relate to ourselves and others throughout life.

IFS offers a compelling lens through which to understand these attachment patterns. A child who learned that their caregivers were unreliable or frightening may have a manager who vigilantly monitors others for signs of abandonment, and a firefighter who withdraws or rages when attachment fears are triggered. The exile at the centre of this system carries the original wound: the devastating belief that they are too much, not enough, or fundamentally unworthy of consistent love.

From an IFS perspective, insecure attachment patterns can be understood as the elaborate protective architecture built around early attachment wounds. The work of therapy is not simply to provide a corrective relational experience with the therapist (though this is important), but to help the client develop a secure relationship with their own internal system — to become, in a sense, a reliable and loving parent to their own parts.

This resonates with the concept in attachment theory of earned security — the idea that adults can develop secure attachment through reflective, attuned relationships, including therapeutic ones. In IFS, the therapeutic relationship with the Self becomes a primary vehicle for this.


IFS and Emotionally Focused Therapy: Accessing Primary Emotion

Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT), developed by Sue Johnson and Les Greenberg, centres on accessing and transforming primary emotional experience as the key to therapeutic change. EFT identifies how people become trapped in negative interactional cycles — often driven by underlying attachment fears and needs — and works to create new, corrective emotional experiences within the therapeutic relationship or within close partnerships.

There is rich conceptual overlap between EFT and IFS. Both approaches recognise that:

  • The emotional reactions clients present with (often described in EFT as “secondary” or “instrumental” emotions) frequently protect against deeper, more vulnerable primary emotions.
  • Accessing and expressing primary emotional experience, in the context of an attuned, validating relationship, is transformative.
  • Defensive strategies and relational patterns make sense in the context of their developmental origins.

In IFS terms, the secondary reactive emotions — anger, contempt, numbness — are often the expressions of firefighter or manager parts, while the primary vulnerable emotions — terror, grief, shame — belong to the exiles. The EFT therapist and the IFS therapist are, in a meaningful sense, working toward the same goal: creating conditions in which the most vulnerable inner experience can be safely accessed, expressed, and received.

For practitioners integrating both models, EFT’s attention to the intersubjective, relational dimension of emotional experience complements IFS’s detailed intrapsychic map beautifully.


IFS and Trauma-Informed Care: Parts as Survivors

Modern trauma theory — shaped by figures including Bessel van der Kolk, Peter Levine, Judith Herman, and Pat Ogden — has fundamentally reframed our understanding of traumatic experience and its sequelae. Trauma is understood not as a historical event but as an unresolved physiological and psychological response that continues to shape perception, behaviour, and relationship in the present.

IFS is inherently and deeply trauma-informed. Several key principles align precisely:

Safety first. IFS protocol requires establishing safety with protective parts before approaching wounded exiles — this is trauma-informed practice enacted at a structural level.

Symptoms as adaptations. IFS reframes all parts, including those that drive the most problematic symptoms, as adaptive responses to overwhelming experience. This directly mirrors trauma-informed care’s understanding of symptoms as the body and mind’s best attempts to survive.

The body as part. IFS readily integrates with somatic approaches, recognising that parts often manifest in the body — the tight chest of a manager, the hollow ache of an exile, the rush of adrenaline of a firefighter. This aligns with Levine’s Somatic Experiencing and Ogden’s Sensorimotor Psychotherapy, which understand trauma as fundamentally embodied.

Avoiding retraumatisation. The IFS approach of never forcing or bypassing protective systems directly addresses the risk of retraumatisation that is central to trauma-informed care. The system is never pushed faster than it is ready to go.

Van der Kolk has noted in his own work that IFS offers one of the most effective frameworks for trauma therapy available, precisely because it honours the adaptive intelligence of the traumatised system while providing a clear pathway toward healing.


IFS and Strengths-Based Practice: The Innate Wisdom of Parts

Strengths-based approaches in psychology — drawing on positive psychology, solution-focused therapy, and narrative traditions — begin from the premise that clients possess inherent resources, capacities, and competencies that can be identified and amplified in service of wellbeing and change.

IFS is, at its core, profoundly strengths-based. Consider:

  • Every part, no matter how destructive its behaviour appears, is motivated by positive intent. The self-critical manager wants the client to be safe. The dissociating firefighter wants the client to survive. The exile, once unburdened, reveals not just pain but also energy, creativity, vitality, and joy.
  • The Self is understood as inherently healthy, wise, and compassionate — it is never broken, never the problem.
  • The goal of IFS is not to eliminate or control parts but to help them transform — to release their burdens and step into new, more constructive roles. Former managers may become trusted advisors; former firefighters may channel their protective energy more skillfully.

This sits comfortably alongside narrative therapy, which invites clients to identify their own preferred stories, values, and competencies, and to recognise that the problem is never the person — a belief IFS would extend to say that the problem is not even the part, but the burden the part carries.


Parts in the Consulting Room: Clinical Applications

The Inner Critic

One of the most common — and most clinically challenging — experiences clients bring to therapy is the inner critic: the harsh, often relentless internal voice that judges, shames, and attacks. Many therapeutic approaches attempt to challenge, reframe, or quieten this voice.

IFS invites a different approach: curiosity. What is this part trying to do? What is it afraid would happen if it stopped criticising? Almost invariably, the inner critic is a manager whose attacks are preemptive — better for me to shame myself than for others to shame me; better for me to be hard on myself than to become complacent and fail. Underneath the critic, there is almost always an exile who already feels deeply ashamed, and a fear that without constant vigilance, that exile’s shame would engulf everything.

When clients can approach the inner critic with curiosity rather than reactivity or resignation, something remarkable often happens: the critic softens. It is, at last, being seen. Its genuine care — however misguided its methods — is being acknowledged.

Polarised Parts

Clients frequently present with two parts in fierce opposition: the part that wants to leave a relationship and the part that is terrified to; the part that wants to rest and the part that drives relentlessly; the part that rages and the part that pleases. IFS understands these polarisations as a natural consequence of the parts system — each part pushes harder against the other in a bid to be heard, and the client gets caught in the middle, exhausted and immobilised.

The therapeutic work is not to choose a side but to witness and appreciate both parts, understanding what each is protecting and what burden each carries. When both parts feel genuinely heard — often, for the first time — they can begin to negotiate rather than fight, and a new, more integrated path often emerges organically.

Parts in the Body

Working somatically with parts is a natural extension of IFS practice. Clients are often invited to locate a part in the body — Where do you feel that manager? Where is the exile? — and to attend to it with curiosity. This somatic dimension both deepens access to parts and creates a felt, embodied quality to healing that purely cognitive work cannot achieve.

This reflects the insights of Sensorimotor Psychotherapy and somatic trauma work: that the body holds experience, and that healing requires the body’s participation, not just the mind’s.


The Therapist’s Parts: Working from Self

IFS has a distinctive and valuable contribution to make to therapist reflective practice. The model recognises that therapists, too, have parts — parts that may be activated by particular clients, content, or dynamics. A therapist’s rescuer part might want to fix a client’s pain. A manager part might become anxious in the presence of a client’s rage. A part carrying shame might be triggered by a client’s self-loathing.

IFS invites therapists to develop the same kind of Self-to-part relationship within themselves that they facilitate in clients. The goal is to work predominantly from Self — from that grounded, curious, compassionate centre — rather than from reactive parts. This is what makes authentic, attuned presence possible, and it is what clients most fundamentally need.

This resonates with concepts from relational psychoanalysis and interpersonal neurobiology around the therapist’s own embodied presence, attunement, and regulatory capacity as central to therapeutic change.


What the Research Tells Us

IFS has been formally recognised by the US Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) as an evidence-based practice. Emerging research supports its effectiveness across a range of presentations including depression, anxiety, trauma symptoms, relationship distress, and chronic pain. Qualitative research consistently highlights clients’ experience of increased self-compassion, reduced internal conflict, and a greater sense of agency and coherence.

It is worth noting that the mechanisms of change in IFS (i.e., accessing and processing primary emotion, developing self-compassion, resolving internal conflict, processing traumatic memory) align with well-established change processes across multiple modalities. IFS does not work in spite of other evidence-based frameworks; it works, in significant part, because of the same underlying processes.


A Note on Integration

IFS is perhaps best understood not as a standalone modality but as a rich, generative framework that deepens and organises other therapeutic approaches. It sits comfortably alongside Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (whose defusion techniques offer another pathway to working with parts), Schema Therapy (whose modes bear striking resemblance to IFS parts), EMDR (which can be powerfully integrated with IFS for trauma processing), and Compassion Focused Therapy (which shares IFS’s emphasis on developing compassionate self-relationship).

For practitioners working across multiple frameworks, IFS offers what might be called a meta-map — a way of understanding the internal landscape that gives shape and direction to interventions drawn from many sources.


Conclusion: The Courage to Go Inside

Ultimately, IFS therapy is an invitation to curiosity over judgement, to compassion over shame, to relationship over exile. It asks clients to do something both simple and profoundly courageous: to turn toward their own inner world with the same warmth and interest they might offer a dear friend.

The parts of us that cause us the most distress are rarely our enemies. They are, more often, the oldest and most loyal parts of ourselves — still working, long after the need has passed, from strategies learned in more dangerous times. When we can see them clearly, appreciate their efforts, and help them lay down their burdens, what emerges is not fragmentation but wholeness: a richer, more spacious sense of self, capable of greater authenticity, deeper connection, and genuine wellbeing.


This article is intended for professional and educational purposes. If you are interested in exploring IFS-informed therapy for yourself, please speak with a qualified mental health practitioner.