Understanding Parts
As a father, and former child myself, I’ve been exposed to many animated movies. Some stand out for their entertainment value, while others stand out for their accurate, and oftentimes humorous portrayal of reality. Of the latter, one such movie stands out above the others as a mental health counselor: Inside Out (Disney/Pixar, 2015). While many may be familiar with the film, I have attached a YouTube video of the opening scene; whether or not you’ve seen the movie, I’d encourage you to watch the clip now before reading on, as we will be doing a brief analysis of the clip.
Okay, now that we are all on the same page, let’s get into it. What should be clear at this point is that the various characters—Joy, Sadness, Fear, Disgust, and Anger—are anthropomorphic representations of their namesake emotions, each a part of Riley’s internal system. This is a fun and unique way of picturing various emotions, but most people simply view it as that and nothing more. What if I told you reality is not all that far off? Let me give a brief introduction to a therapeutic approach known as Internal Family Systems (IFS), developed by Richard Schwartz, Ph.D.
As the name implies, IFS maintains that we all have an internal system made up of various parts, just like Riley has with Joy, Sadness, Fear, Disgust, and Anger. Before explaining more, I understand that this concept may be quite foreign to most readers. So, let’s take a moment for a more experiential approach. Take a moment and recall a time when you were experiencing some level of internal distress. Maybe you were nervous to do something but also knew you had to follow through. Now, think about the thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations you may have been experiencing. When you were nervous, did you talk to yourself as a way to calm down? What thoughts were present? Maybe you felt it in your gut? What Internal Family Systems (IFS) suggests is that we are experiencing parts, each of which is like its own individual personality with thoughts, feelings, and sensations. What’s perhaps more astounding is that IFS suggests there are no bad parts (check out the book, No Bad Parts, by Richard Schwartz, Ph.D, for more information). The anxious part? Not bad. That self-critic? Not bad. The part that binge watched Netflix all weekend, and maybe week nights as well? Not bad. The part that does drugs? Not bad. The part that self-harms? Not bad either. Let’s return to analyzing the movie clip to understand why.
We’re first presented with Joy, who seems to be the default leader in most circumstances. After all, most people’s actions are done out of a motivation to be joyful and happy. When things are going well, the other parts—Fear, Disgust, Anger, and Sadness—take a backseat. Sadness is introduced next, but we’ll get to her later. Fear comes third; he continues to take a back seat to Joy as Riley runs through the house laughing, but stays close to Joy and the control panel as he observes what is going on. As soon as he spots potential danger, he shoves his way past Joy to take control of the situation. We then meet Disgust, who takes control when Riley is being fed broccoli, causing her to knock it away. Anger immediately follows, taking control when Riley is told she won’t get dessert if she doesn’t eat her broccoli. What many people might miss is the good intention of all her parts; they are protective. Fear? He is “really good at keeping Riley safe.” Disgust? She “keeps Riley from being poisoned…physically and socially.” Anger? He “cares very deeply about things being fair.” Sadness? In this clip, Joy states, “I’m not really sure what she does,” followed by attempts to convince herself that things are “good” with her around—if you’ve seen the whole movie, you know that the relationship between Joy and Sadness takes center stage; in the end, we learn that even Sadness play an important role in Riley’s internal system.
Another aspect of our internal system is that parts have relationships and interactions with each other, just as Joy, Sadness, Fear, Disgust, and Anger have. Parts may have positive relationships with each other, while others may dislike, or even hate the others. If you have high anxiety, how do you feel towards that anxious part? I’d dare say you dislike it and try everything you can to get rid of it. But what is anxiety according to neuroscience? At a basic level, when you feel stressed or threatened in some way—whether the trigger is acting on the conscious or subconscious level—your body prepares to act as a protective measure. It is an adaptive mechanism that, when operating at healthy levels, can be a motivator. However, when people have negative experiences (e.g., making a mistake while giving a presentation)—especially traumatic experiences—new parts are born who hold the pain of those memories. As a result, the anxious part works even harder to protect that part who holds the pain. As your next presentation approaches, the anxious part takes control. You begin overthinking and over preparing, because you will absolutely not go through the same painful experience again. The anxious part’s intentions are good. Yet, other parts hate it for how it may be harming you. Maybe some friends asked to hangout, but you were so anxious about the presentation that you declined the invitation so you could prepare. Over time, those friends may stop sending invitations, and you are hurt by the social rejection that came from your anxiety—a new part is born that holds that pain, along with another protective part that tries to control the anxiety.
What would happen if, instead of fighting our anxiety, or other protective parts, we listened to their stories? What if we showed them appreciation for their work in protecting us? What if we entered into those stories of pain and suffering to witness the horror of what was endured, and helped the parts who hold pain—who have been frozen in time when they were hurt—and brought them to a safe place? Maybe that anxious part could start relaxing a bit. Maybe the substance using part wouldn’t need to numb out the pain. Maybe the self-critic could become your biggest cheerleader. This is what we aim for when engaging in internal family systems therapy. It begins with the awareness that we all have parts, and that those parts all have good intentions. We learn to interact with parts, especially listening to them. We unblend from our parts—parts we have long identified with (e.g., “I am an anxious person,” rather than, “a part of me is feeling anxious.”)—and then unburden them by bringing healing to the parts they protect.
If this has piqued your interest in some way, or if you have tried other methods of managing your parts without success, I’d encourage you to seek counseling with someone who has training in Internal Family Systems therapy.