On befriending a**holes
Velcro and teflon
Last week I shared my personal manifesto. I needed to write it to learn to cheerlead myself. To move out of self-sabotaging thought patterns. Then I needed to share it. Mostly to cross the bridge to a more unabridged version of my-outward-self.
But there’s a part two to that story.
As with anything that is life-long “work” - it’s never done. Never over. And when it comes to the pesky, negative thought patterns - there’s this other little thing that needs to be addressed. Our brain’s neurology.
“The mind is like Velcro for negative experiences and like Teflon for positive ones.”
- Rick Hanson
A lot of studies (this book is a great place to go deeper on that research if you’re interested) have shown that the brain has a built-in negativity bias. The brain is wired to detect and respond to potential threats, which may have been adaptive for survival when we were hominids. But even today - even in our AI-building, crypto-staking, gene-replacing, optimization-seeking civilization - this bias leads us humans to overlook positive experiences and focus on negative ones.
Negative feedback stays with us longer than positive notes of acknowledgment or appreciation. We are likely to remember negative events with more clarity than positive ones. Negative interactions with others linger in our memory longer than positive ones.
Our brains are wired to be a**holes to us.
OK… so what?
Well, our negative thought patterns have a life of their own. They exist in relation and interact with other “voices” in our heads - the ones that are more positive or compassionate or funny. Think of all these different voices and narratives that we create in our brain’s chatter as “parts of us” that are… a part of us. When a part of us feels threatened, abandoned, or neglected it can often mean that an invalidating, critical, or pessimistic voice suddenly starts to get louder.
The squeakiest “parts”
“Parts work” is at the heart of Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy. IFS is a psychotherapy model that views a person's mind as consisting of multiple "parts", each with its own unique traits, emotions, behaviors, and experiences. The goal of IFS is to better understand and heal the relationships between those parts. Which (as is usually the case with psychotherapy) is a pretty abstract concept. Until you get to experience it firsthand.
So let me give you a glimpse into what that’s all about, using the sergeant voice in my head as an example (and in the process continue to really mess with my boundaries of how much of myself I am willing to share…)
+ My therapist Mary will say something to the effect of: “Maria, give voice to the “sergeant part”. What does it want at this moment? How does it feel about this moment you’re going through right now?”
+ This is where I’ll start bringing back all the negative things the sergeant has been saying about me. (Suddenly I realize I am embodying the “sergeant” fully. Which is sort of forcing me to be empathic, compassionate even. Wild, right?)
+ Once I’m done, Mary will say something like: “OK, now embody the voice of the other part of you that doesn’t like the “sergeant”. The part that feels hurt, sad, lonely, maybe even attacked.” This part ironically isn’t easier than embodying the “sergeant”. It’s really hard for me to have compassion for myself. So this part takes a while. I usually “get there” - to a place where I can fully embody the feeling of weakness, loneliness, sadness.
+ After I’ve had time to process that, my therapist will shift mode again: “OK, now go back to being the voice of the “sergeant”. How are you trying to help Maria? What are you afraid Maria might experience if she doesn’t let you take over?”
+ That’s when things get interesting, because the “sergeant part” suddenly starts to feel heard and seen. Instead of getting pushed away, it can speak its truth.
+ Turns out… the “sergeant part” wants to make sure that my life amounts to something. (We’re both unclear on what that should be - both the “sergeant part” and the whole of me. That’s for another post.) It’s afraid that if it doesn’t motivate me in its punitive ways - I will spend my life chilling on the couch reading a book or hugging trees in the park.
+ That’s when my therapist will usually step in to bring back the other, hurt part of me. She will ask me to speak with compassion to the “sergeant voice” and to comfort its fears. Which is beyond ironic.
+ Words I’ve definitely said to the “sergeant part”: “I get it. You want the best for me, you want me to succeed in this tough, competitive world. You’re actually just looking out for me. I appreciate that.”
+ Then my therapist might ask me: “Is there something else you’d like to add? Is there a boundary you’d like to define with the ‘sergeant part’?”
+ That’s when it hit me. I actually want the “sergeant”. I need the “sergeant”. It does in fact serve as a momentum generator for me. I don’t want to shun it. But I also don’t want it to fuel my anxieties and insecurities in moments when staying positive and flowy would help me more.
+ So Mary came up with the idea of a scale for me. Kind of like when I try to get my kids to stop shouting over one another. I’m OK with the “sergeant part” being at a 2, but definitely not OK with it being at its more typical 10.
See what I did there? I ended up accepting the “sergeant part”, as a momentum builder and an accountability buddy. And guess what? It’s led to a weird sense of calm. I am more at ease with the “sergeant” now. I know where it’s coming from. I understand that it actually wants to help me. I also know that I can reel it in. I’ve set my boundaries.
The Practice
You can find this practice (and many more) in more detail in “No Bad Parts” by Richard Schwartz which is a super approachable book on practical, daily uses of IFS. I also highly recommend finding a therapist who does “parts work”, because my hunch is this work is better done with an external force of reason, structure, and objectivity.
But if you want to try it solo - go for it! Maybe you could try speaking out loud? Maybe give different parts different voices if you’re into that kind of role-play?
Name the part that is giving you trouble. I’ve trademarked “Sergeant”, so don’t use that. Call it Part A for now.
Give Part A a voice. Let it speak. Let it go wild.
Prompts: “Hey Part A - What do you want at this moment? How do you feel about what’s going down?”
Shift to a different part of yourself - one that is hurt or scared or angry with Part A. Give it a name - let’s call it Part B. Encourage it to speak up.
Prompts: “OK Part B - how does Part A make you feel?”
Go back to being Part A and get it to open up more.
Prompts: “OK Part A - How are you trying to help here? What are you so afraid of? What do you actually want?”
And now back to Part B and get it to empathize as well as set boundaries with Part A.
Example Script: “I see Part A what you’re trying to do and how you’re trying to help. I appreciate that. But I cannot have you at a 10, I need you at a 2. So can you just chill out a little and step back? I’ll call for you when I need you, OK?”
What’s your “Inner Weirdome"?
The experience of working with my different parts has been life-changing. And I mean it. Really profound shit. Not only because getting all those parts to verbalize, normalizes stuff we rarely talk about with anyone. But it also makes it somehow permissible to have a bunch of inner weirdos, who all want to rule over all the other weirdos.
Welcome to my spiritual life. Newly branded as “The Inner Weirdome”. If you ever want to hear more about that fantastic place or want to tell me about yours - comment below or drop me a note at maria@amble.day.