How IFS Helped Me Understand My Triggers

Using Internal Family Systems (IFS) Therapy to Reframe My Triggers

Sep 30, 2025

The inside of my mind has always been loud. Imagine you’re sitting in a large school cafeteria filled with teenagers... that level of loud. Sometimes it even feels like that for me, not in a “the voices are telling me to do things” kind of way, but more like several internal monologues all running at once. It’s multitasking at its finest… and they’re all fighting to be the top conversation, so they get louder and louder, like kids trying to talk over each other just to be heard.

Medication has helped me slow those thoughts down and quiet the chaos, and I want to pause here to say something important. I am a big believer that... in most cases... medication is a tool, not a life sentence. It can be a hand up out of the darkness, giving you enough stability to begin healing.

Now, let me make myself crystal clear: I am not your doctor. You do not just stop taking your meds without talking to your licensed medical professional first. There are situations and conditions where long-term medication is absolutely necessary; and I’m not speaking against that. I’m simply saying that, for some of us, medication can be one step on the journey... not the entire map. And since my journey is still in full swing, I’m thankful for the help.

But even with that support, when I first started identifying my parts and recognizing their individual voices, it felt weird and unnatural... uncomfortable is probably the better word. It made me wonder if something more serious was wrong. I remember asking my therapist, more than once: I’m not schizophrenic, right? Not split personality? Not bi-polar? She always reassured me... no. This was just a vulnerable part of the process. IFS isn’t about being broken. It’s about being bluntly honest with yourself.

That shift came when my therapist first introduced me to Internal Family Systems (IFS). At the time, I was so desperate for relief that I was willing to try anything... even this thing that, at first, sounded like an excuse to let your crazy fly. But the more I read, the more I wrote, the more I listened, the more it started to make sense.

And the deeper I went, the more passionate I became. I’m not only walking this path as a patient in therapy... I’m studying it, practicing it, and learning everything I can about it. IFS has become something I want to share, something I feel equipped to teach, or will be soon, because it’s not just a clinical tool to me... it’s a lived one, I have seen with my own eyeballs how much it can help and heal.

What IFS Really Is (and the Parts You Might Meet)

IFS, or Internal Family Systems, teaches that our inner world isn’t one solid “self.” Instead, it’s more like a family, with different voices, needs, and personalities... all trying to keep us safe in their own way. Some are loud, some are subtle, some are nurturing, and some are exhausting. The point isn’t to banish them, but to listen and build trust so that your Self can lead.

Here are some of the parts I’ve met along the way:

Protectors – These parts jump in to keep me safe. Sometimes they overreact, sometimes they shut things down, but their main goal is survival. They’re the brakes that slam down when danger feels close.
Caretakers – The people-pleasers and fawners. They work overtime to keep others happy, so I won’t get hurt. They often carry heavy responsibility that was never truly theirs.
Inner Child Parts – Younger versions of me, frozen in moments of fear, pain, or longing. Sometimes playful and light, sometimes deeply wounded. Meeting them was uncomfortable at first... but it was also the beginning of learning to parent myself.
Managers – The planners, perfectionists, and critics. They try to control everything so that pain doesn’t break through. My inner critic lives here, always loud, always certain it’s “helping.”
Spiritual Parts – These feel bigger than me, sometimes like archetypes, ancestors, or elements. One of mine is a kitty cat part... motherly, sage-like, healing, almost shamanic. When I connect with it, I feel held, guided, and soothed in ways words can’t touch.
Legacy-Burdened Parts – These carry family or generational pain. They’re heavy but recognizing them means I can finally choose not to pass them forward.
Self – Not a part at all, but the core of who I am. Self is calm, compassionate, curious, and capable of leading. When I let Self-drive the bus, things feel steadier.

My Favorite Analogies: The Bus and the Classroom

I have a very visual mind, so everything is like a movie playing with a narrator and all. One of my favorite ways to explain IFS in the beginning is that my parts were driving the bus. Running rampant like the movie speed. Depending how I was reacting or my mood as it were, it would depend on which one of my parts were driving… I wasn’t in charge. Different parts would grab the wheel, swerve, argue, and leave me feeling completely out of control.

These days, I imagine myself as the teacher in a preschool classroom. All my parts are there... some raising their hands, some whispering, some shouting over everyone else, and someone else is over in the corner eating paste. My job is to calm the room, set boundaries, and give each one a turn to speak. It isn’t perfect. Sometimes the loudest kid still takes over. But now I know it doesn’t mean I’m crazy. It means my system is alive and trying.

Understanding Triggers Through IFS

One of the biggest shifts IFS gave me was realizing that a trigger isn’t weakness. It’s not proof that I’m broken or failing at healing. A trigger is one of my parts sounding the alarm: “Danger! Pay attention!”

The tricky part is that triggers rarely match the actual situation in front of me. Someone’s tone of voice, a smell, a phrase, or even a song can send me spiraling. To the outside world, it looks like an “overreaction.” But to the part inside me, it feels like life or death.

Here’s how IFS helped me reframe those moments:

Protectors and Managers often activate first. If I hear a sharp tone, one of my Managers might jump in with harsh self-talk: “Don’t mess up. Don’t make them mad. Stay small and in control.” It sounds cruel, but its job is to keep me from getting hurt yet again.
Exiles and Inner Children carry the raw pain. A smell of cologne or a song from years ago can crack them open, and suddenly I feel the grief or fear they’ve been holding. Their message is simple: “I’m still here. I still need care.”
Firefighters (or reactive Protectors) sometimes take over when the pain gets too close. They might push me to distract, numb out, or lash out so I don’t have to feel it fully.

For a long time, I judged myself for this. I thought: Why can’t I just get over it? Why am I still being thrown back into the past? That shame only deepened the spiral.

IFS gave me a different lens: these parts aren’t sabotaging me. They’re doing their best to keep me alive. The “overreaction” is really an over-protection... my inner system trying to stop me from being hurt the way I was before.

Was it uncomfortable to start hearing those voices clearly? Absolutely. At first it felt weird, unnatural, even scary. But the more I leaned in, the more I realized that underneath every trigger is a part that just wants me to be safe. That shift... from fear and frustration to curiosity and compassion... changed everything.

What Helped Me Most

There’s no single “hack” that made this easy, it isn’t. It’s been a slow layering of practices and mindset shifts... some of them uncomfortable at first, but all of them worth it. Here are the ones that have carried me the furthest:

Letting myself be weird. At first, I thought parts were only supposed to look like little versions of me. But mine haven’t always show up that way. Some came as animals. Some as weather. One of the most important is my kitty cat part… another is a sage-like, motherly type, and deeply healing, ethereal almost Wind (picture the elemental from the movie Riddick). Learning to accept those images without judgment was freeing. The stranger they seemed, the more truth they carried.
Being raw and real. My parts know when I’m faking it. If I say “I’m fine” when I’m not, they go quiet, but the tension stays. If I tell the truth... “I’m scared” or “I feel ashamed”... they soften, because they finally feel heard. Honesty is super uncomfortable, but it builds trust. Years of masking make it difficult to get started in this part.
Practicing being the adult my younger self would have felt safe with. This was the hardest and most healing practice. When a younger part showed up sobbing, terrified, or furious, my instinct was to push her away, tell her not right now, we don’t have time to feel this. Instead, I practice showing up like the safe adult I didn’t have in the varying moments... calm, protective, non-judgmental, and compassionate. Over time, that has shifted something inside me.
Talking directly to my parts. Instead of spiraling with thoughts, I started turning toward them: “Who is having these feelings? What are you trying to tell me or protect me from?” At first, it felt silly, even embarrassing. But now it’s one of the most grounding things I do. Each time I listen, the chaos inside gets a little quieter. Though, I have learned not to do it around other people, since talking to yourself is still generally frowned upon.

None of this erased my pain. But it gave me a map. It turned what felt like random explosions of emotion into meaningful conversations with the parts of me that need the most care.

Practical Steps for You

Pause and say, “A part of me is speaking.”
Ask, “Who is having these feelings?”
Gently wonder, “What is this part trying to tell me or protect me from?”
Picture your parts however they show up... in a classroom, on a bus, or maybe even as animals or elements.
Thank them for working so hard.
Then step back into your role as the teacher, the driver, the compassionate adult.

Final Thoughts…

My triggers used to feel like proof something was wrong. Now, they feel like invitations to listen more closely... to the parts of me that are messy, loud, or strange, but still worthy of love.

IFS has given me permission to stop fighting myself and start leading myself with compassion. Healing isn’t about silencing your parts. It’s about making space for them, so the whole of you can finally breathe.

Hoping this sparks some provocative thoughts and healing,

Maya Blake

How IFS Helped Me Understand My Triggers

Using Internal Family Systems (IFS) Therapy to Reframe My Triggers

Discussion about this post