Most of us have patterns we know pretty well. We overthink, avoid conflict, try to keep everyone happy, shut down when we are hurt, procrastinate or feel like we need to control what happens next. We may even understand where some of these patterns came from. The frustrating part is that understanding them doesn’t necessarily stop us from doing them.
There is usually a reason we developed these behaviors in the first place. A child who pays close attention to everyone’s mood may get very good at knowing when it is safe to ask for something. Someone who receives a lot of attention for doing well may learn that achievement is a reliable way to feel valued. Growing up around unpredictability can make planning and preparing feel safer than waiting to see what happens. These responses may have worked quite well for us at one point, which is part of why they can be difficult to change.
Internal Family Systems, or IFS, gives us a useful way to think about this. IFS understands us as having different parts, including parts that take on protective roles. Some protectors work hard to prevent us from feeling pain in the first place. Others react quickly when painful feelings break through. Underneath those protectors may be more vulnerable parts, called exiles, that carry feelings such as fear, shame, loneliness or hurt.
I like thinking about patterns this way because the goal changes. Instead of deciding that the anxious, controlling, perfectionistic, or people-pleasing part of us needs to disappear, we can try to understand why it is working so hard. In IFS, protectors aren’t considered bad parts of us that need to be eliminated. They have taken on jobs within the system, often in response to something that happened much earlier in our lives.
Trying to fight with these parts can become another struggle inside of us. If a part believes checking is necessary to keep me safe, demanding that it stop doesn’t do much to address what it believes will happen if it doesn’t check. I would rather help that part become less extreme in how hard it has to work. I know it likely still has something useful to contribute.
So how do we get started doing that? The first step is Notice. Pay attention to moments when something shifts quickly or your response feels unusually automatic. Your partner’s tone changes and you immediately wonder what you did. You make a relatively minor mistake at work and are still replaying it that evening. Someone seems disappointed in you and you begin explaining yourself before they have even asked for an explanation.
At this point, don’t worry about changing anything. See if you can pause long enough to recognize that something in you has been activated. That alone can be difficult when a response has become automatic. And please, remember to try to do this noticing with self-compassion.
Next, Locate what is happening in your body. Our protective responses aren’t limited to our thoughts. Your stomach may tighten, your shoulders may come up or your heart may start beating faster. You might feel hot, nauseated, numb or have an immediate urge to leave. Sometimes our body has registered something before we have consciously figured out what bothered us.
I know this personally because I have struggled with illness anxiety for years. I can know rationally that a physical sensation is probably harmless and still feel my stomach drop before I have finished the thought. My body has already responded, and then my mind gets involved and starts trying to figure out what is wrong. Understanding that I have illness anxiety has helped me tremendously, but it hasn’t made that first physical response disappear. Sometimes, I have not spent enough time on either of these steps and I go on auto-pilot with checking behaviors or dive into Dr. Google.
When you notice this kind of activation, you can give your body a little time before doing whatever comes next. Feel your feet against the floor or the support of the chair underneath you (ground). Let your eyes move around the room and notice where you actually are (orient). See what happens with your breath without deciding you need to breathe a particular way. The purpose isn’t to force your body to calm down. It is to stay connected enough to what is happening that you can become curious about it.
Then Listen. What does this part want you to do? Maybe it wants you to apologize, explain, check, withdraw, get angry, make a plan, work harder, or ask someone for reassurance. Try to notice the urge before deciding whether you should or shouldn’t act on it. And, again, let’s try do this with self-compassion.
You can also ask what the part is worried would happen if it didn’t do its usual job. If I don’t explain myself, what am I afraid will happen? If I don’t check, what feels dangerous about not knowing? If I don’t take responsibility for this person’s feelings, what am I worried they will think of me? For me, it’s often looking for reassurance in information and I can tell you, that strategy alone rarely helps.
This is where some appreciation can be useful. You don’t have to like what the part does to recognize that it has probably been trying to help. A perfectionistic part may have helped someone succeed in an environment where mistakes were criticized. A part that monitors everyone else’s mood may have been useful in a home where moods were unpredictable. Extreme independence may have developed when relying on someone else wasn’t safe.
Once we understand more about what the protector is doing, we can help it Update. A protective response that developed years ago may still be operating with information from that period of our lives. We can notice what is different now. I have more choices. I can tolerate someone being disappointed in me. I don’t depend on this person for my survival. I have other people I can turn to. I have handled uncertainty before. This is hard, I won’t sugar coat that. This step requires that we unblend enough from whichever part has been triggered in order to access Self or, in IFS, self energy.
This isn’t about convincing ourselves that everything is safe. Sometimes our protective responses are giving us important information. We are trying to determine whether the intensity of the response and the strategy it is asking us to use fit what is actually happening now.
If the protector begins to soften, we have more room to Integrate rather than eradicate it. The person who learned to read everyone else’s mood doesn’t need to lose her sensitivity to other people. She may be able to notice someone’s mood without automatically assuming responsibility for it. Someone who learned to be fiercely independent doesn’t need to become dependent. She may become more able to recognize when it is safe to let someone help her. The protector can still have a voice without having to run the whole system.
Sometimes something different happens when a protector softens. We may become aware of a much more vulnerable feeling underneath it. In IFS, this may be an exile. Exiles are the parts that carry painful feelings and beliefs connected to earlier experiences, while protectors often organize themselves around preventing us from having to feel that pain again.
You may notice that instead of simply feeling the urge to fix, check or withdraw, you suddenly feel very young, ashamed, afraid of being left, intensely lonely or overwhelmed by sadness. The feeling may seem much larger than the situation happening in front of you.
If that happens, I would change what you’re doing. This isn’t the time to start digging for the original memory or trying to figure out exactly what happened to create the feeling. Slow things down. Notice where you are. Feel the floor or chair underneath you. Look around the room. Remind yourself of your age and that you are here now. If it feels manageable, you can acknowledge that there is a younger or more vulnerable part of you hurting without asking that part to tell you everything. We should tread carefully with our exiles. We want to connect with them, ask them questions, learn what they need but this may not be the moment. It’s takes trust for our exiles to feel safe enough to communicate with us. Take it slowly.
You may also notice another protector quickly showing up to analyze the feeling, make it stop, reassure you, distract you or tell you that you’re being ridiculous. Often when we notice an exile, a protector shoots right up to do its job. That’s worth noticing too. We don’t need to push that protector aside in order to get to the exile. IFS specifically emphasizes respecting protectors and working with them before moving into vulnerable material.
If the feelings become overwhelming, you have difficulty staying connected to the present, or traumatic memories begin emerging, deeper exploration may be better done with a trained therapist. There is a difference between becoming aware of a vulnerable part and trying to process trauma on your own.
For everyday protective patterns, though, the process can be fairly practical. Notice when something in you becomes activated. Locate what is happening in your body. Listen to what the protective part wants you to do and what it fears would happen if it stopped. Appreciate that there is probably a reason it learned to respond this way. Help it update by noticing what is different about your circumstances and your capacity now. Then work toward integration, where the protector doesn’t have to disappear but also doesn’t have to take over.
Over time, that might look surprisingly ordinary. I can feel anxious and wait before checking. Someone can be disappointed in me and I may slow down before trying to repair it. I can notice that I want to withdraw from an uncomfortable conversation and remain there a little longer. The important part isn’t forcing myself to do the opposite of what my protector wants. I am giving myself enough room to hear it, understand why it is there and see whether it can let me respond with more of myself available.
We don’t need to get rid of the parts of us that learned how to protect us. Many of them developed qualities that continue to serve us well. I want those parts to be able to soften enough that they can become part of how I respond rather than having to determine how I respond. We probably all want the same thing. Try out these steps—if you need support, reach out to a therapist.