Have you ever noticed that you can feel completely certain about something one day and very differently about it the next? Part of you may know that a relationship is safe, while another part becomes anxious the moment someone seems distant. You may genuinely want to set a boundary, only to find yourself agreeing to something you don't want to do. You can be confident and capable at work and then feel surprisingly small or overwhelmed during an argument with someone you love.
These contradictions can be confusing, especially when you understand logically that your reaction doesn't quite fit what is happening. You may find yourself wondering why you keep doing something you've worked so hard to change, or why all of your insight seems to disappear in certain moments.
One way we can begin to make sense of this is by thinking about the different parts of ourselves that developed through our experiences.
Trauma therapist Janina Fisher describes parts as an understandable way that the mind and body adapt to overwhelming experiences. Her work draws from research on trauma and dissociation as well as parts-oriented and body-based approaches to therapy. Rather than assuming that every thought, feeling, and reaction should come from one consistent version of ourselves, this perspective recognizes that different experiences can shape different ways of responding.
This doesn't mean having separate personalities. For most people, parts show up in much more familiar ways. You may recognize a critical part that is always worried you're going to get something wrong, a part that becomes anxious when someone pulls away, a part that shuts down when conflict becomes too intense, or a fiercely independent part that would rather handle everything alone than risk depending on someone.
Sometimes these parts seem to contradict one another. You might have one part that desperately wants closeness and another that feels uncomfortable once someone gets too close. One part may want to slow down and rest while another insists that you need to keep going. One part can understand that something happened a long time ago while another responds as though it could happen again at any moment.
When we understand where these responses came from, they often begin to make much more sense.
Fisher's work helps us understand how some parts become organized around the body's natural survival responses. When something feels threatening, our nervous system has several ways of trying to protect us. Depending on our experiences and what worked in the past, we may be more likely to fight, escape, freeze, submit, or urgently seek connection with someone who feels important to our safety.
These responses can continue long after the original danger has passed. A fight response might show up later as defensiveness, anger, criticism, or a strong need to regain control. A flight response may appear as avoidance, staying constantly busy, leaving difficult conversations, or wanting to escape when emotions become uncomfortable. Freeze can look like going blank during an argument, feeling numb or disconnected, or knowing what you want to say but suddenly being unable to find the words.
Other parts learned that safety came through accommodating other people. Someone who discovered early that conflict became less dangerous when they were agreeable may become very good at reading the room, anticipating what everyone needs, and keeping other people happy. Another person may have learned that maintaining connection was essential and become especially sensitive to signs of rejection, distance, or abandonment.
None of these responses developed randomly. At some point, your nervous system learned something about what helped you get through difficult situations.
One of the ideas I particularly like in Fisher's work is her description of the part that learned to “go on with normal life.” This is often the capable part of us that continued going to school, working, taking care of children, maintaining relationships, meeting expectations, and doing whatever needed to be done even when other parts of us were struggling.
This can explain something that is often confusing for people who have experienced trauma or chronic stress. You may be extremely competent in one area of your life and feel completely overwhelmed in another. Someone who manages complicated situations at work without difficulty may find themselves unable to think clearly when their partner is angry. A person who has taken care of everyone around them for years may feel surprisingly helpless when they need care themselves.
We sometimes interpret these differences as evidence that we're being irrational or that the stronger, more capable version of ourselves should simply take over. A parts perspective allows us to understand that different situations may activate different responses, each shaped by its own experiences and expectations.
This is where parts work can become especially helpful. Many of the reactions we dislike most about ourselves began as attempts to solve a problem.
A critical part may have learned that being hard on you keeps you from making mistakes. A perfectionistic part may believe that getting everything right protects you from criticism or rejection. The part that doesn't trust people may remember, in its own way, what happened the last time you trusted someone who wasn't safe. A people-pleasing part may have learned that keeping everyone happy reduced conflict. The part that shuts down may have discovered that becoming quiet or numb was the safest option when fighting back or leaving wasn't possible.
Even the part that becomes intensely anxious when someone pulls away may be doing something that once made sense. If connection felt uncertain earlier in life, becoming highly sensitive to changes in another person's mood or availability may have helped you notice when an important relationship was at risk.
Understanding why a response developed doesn't mean that the response is still working well for you. Some strategies that were remarkably effective in one environment become exhausting or disruptive in another. The goal is to understand enough about the response that we can begin helping the nervous system discover that it may have other options now.
There are times when we can recognize that we're having a reaction without completely getting swept up in it. You might notice that a part of you is worried your partner is upset and still be able to consider other explanations for their behavior.
At other times, the reaction becomes much stronger. The fear that someone might leave no longer feels like one possibility; it feels certain. The thought that you've failed doesn't feel like a thought; it feels like a fact. Anger can suddenly feel completely justified, or the urge to get away from a situation can become overwhelming.
Fisher describes this experience as becoming blended with a part. When we're blended, it can be difficult to remember that the feelings and beliefs we're experiencing belong to one part of our experience rather than representing everything we know about ourselves and the situation.
This is one reason the ability to notice our internal experience is so important. If you can begin to recognize, “A part of me feels really unsafe right now,” there is a little more room than when the experience is simply, “I'm not safe.” The fear is still real and deserves attention, but now there is also another part of you present that can notice the fear, become curious about it, and eventually help that frightened part recognize what is different now.
You don't need to identify every part of yourself or come up with names for them. A good place to begin is with the reactions you already know well.
Think about something you find yourself doing repeatedly even though you wish you responded differently. Maybe you become defensive when someone gives you feedback. Perhaps you shut down during conflict, panic when someone doesn't respond, procrastinate when something matters to you, become intensely self-critical after a mistake, or agree to things you don't want to do because disappointing someone feels unbearable.
Instead of immediately trying to stop the reaction, spend some time getting curious about it. Notice what tends to bring it out, what happens in your body when it appears, and what it seems to want you to do. Then consider what this part seems to be worried might happen if it didn't respond this way.
You may discover that the part you've been frustrated with has been trying very hard to prevent something it learned to fear a long time ago.
Understanding that doesn't mean handing the part complete control but it does give you an opportunity to respond to it differently.
Sometimes a very small change in language can help create that space. If you notice yourself thinking “I'm not good enough,” you might try “A part of me is feeling like I'm not good enough right now.” If everything in you wants to leave during a difficult conversation, you might notice, “There's a part of me that really wants to get away from this.”
You don't have to argue with the part or convince it that it's wrong, however, it helps to start by noticing that it's there.
From there, you might become curious about what happened just before it appeared, what it seems to be afraid of, or whether the situation you're in now reminds it of something you've experienced before. Over time, this can help you respond from a broader awareness of what is happening rather than automatically following whichever part is loudest in the moment.
This is also where parts work connects closely with The Noticing Self. The more we practice noticing our thoughts, emotions, body sensations, and impulses without immediately becoming consumed by them, the easier it can become to recognize when a particular part of us has stepped forward.
The next time you notice a familiar reaction, particularly one that seems stronger than the situation calls for, see if you can approach it with a little curiosity before trying to change it.
Consider what the part seems to be trying to accomplish, what it may be protecting you from, and when you first remember needing a response like this.
You may not know the answers right away, and you don't need to. Simply beginning to wonder about a reaction instead of immediately criticizing yourself for having it can change the way you relate to that part of yourself.
Getting to Know a Part of Me
Choose one reaction or pattern you'd like to understand a little better.
I notice this part of me when:
What tends to bring this part out?
What happens in my body when this part shows up?
What does this part make me want to do?
What does this part seem to believe?
What might this part be afraid would happen if it didn't respond this way?
When might responding this way have been helpful to me?
What might this part need from me now?
This page is informed in part by the work of trauma therapist Janina Fisher, particularly her approach to understanding trauma-related parts and her book Healing the Fragmented Selves of Trauma Survivors. Fisher's work brings together an understanding of trauma, the nervous system, dissociation, attachment, mindfulness, and parts-oriented therapy.
The Noticing Self
Practice noticing thoughts, emotions, and internal experiences without immediately becoming caught up in them.
The Beliefs We Carry
Explore some of the beliefs different parts of you may have learned through earlier experiences.
Window of Tolerance
Learn what happens when your nervous system moves into survival mode and why it can become harder to think clearly when you're overwhelmed.