It actually hasn't worked

Hi friends -

A couple of weeks ago, I had a pretty transformational therapy session with my therapist, Bridget.

I’ve had a number of different therapists over the years, and Bridget is, by far, my favorite.

She has a very calming energy. She’s wise and thoughtful. She doesn’t overshare, but she relates to me in a very human-to-human way. She helps normalize and bring clarity to my jumbled thoughts and feelings.

Bridget provides me with a sound counterbalance to all the social media influencers out there — many of whom have great insights, but lack the depth of education and experience of a trained therapist.

For the past year, my work with Bridget has been centered on IFS - Internal Family Systems, also known as “parts work.”

With her help, I’ve begun to identify the various protective parts I’ve relied on throughout my life.

Here are some notes from my journal on my protective parts…

The Savior - the one who knows what to do to fix things, make a plan, repair relationships, ease suffering.

The Caretaker - the one who anticipates the needs of others in order to win their affirmation and adoration.

The Performer - the one who says the funny or insightful thing, and then gets the glory, the laugh, or the compliment.

The Agreeable One - the one who becomes invaluable to others as a way of assuring that they never leave.

In our session, Bridget and I were talking about the ways these parts have tried to protect me over the years — how they have tried to shield me from pain, suffering, and vulnerability.

And, I gotta say, my various protective parts have been very successful. The patterns and personas I listed above actually feel like the real me. In fact, if I had to describe myself, I would list those items as some of my best qualities.

Bridget and I were discussing this very thing.

I was telling her how well these patterns have worked for me over the years, how much praise and recognition I’ve received from others, how it has led to my success personally and professionally, and how good I am at getting other people to like me.

Then, Bridget said something that truly shocked me.

She gently said, “But Rachel, these patterns actually haven’t worked for you. You have imbalanced relationships with others. You didn’t save your parents’ marriage. And your own marriage ended in divorce. These patterns haven’t worked for you.”

It was the most direct thing she’s ever said to me, and it hit me like a thousand truths.

Because of the trust and safety I feel with Bridget, her words didn’t offend me or hurt my feelings — rather, it was like the brightest lightbulb had entered the room.

My immediate thought was, “Oh. My. God. She’s right. It hasn’t worked.”

I realized the story I had been telling myself was that I had cracked the code on life — that I knew exactly how to get my needs for affirmation and adoration met. That I had the perfect formula for winning others over.

You may remember the quote from Cory Muscara that I wrote about last week, “If it is true that you are fundamentally whole, then maybe the path is to relax into yourself, rather than always trying to be someone different.”

You guys, I am fundamentally whole — (and you are, too).

This is something I believe at a cognitive level, but it is not a truth that I have fully embodied.

I still navigate my day while wearing my masks, my protective parts, the patterns and personas I have relied on to ensure my safety.

These protective parts of me aren’t bad or wrong — they’ve carried me through so much of life. They’ve helped me navigate heartbreak, uncertainty, and the ache of wanting to belong.

For that, I hold them with gratitude.

However, underneath all of them, there’s a quieter, truer version of myself — one that doesn’t need to perform, save, fix, or earn love to be worthy of it. That’s the version I want to practice living from.

And maybe that’s the real work of therapy — not to become someone new, but to gently lay down the masks and remember who we already are.

I don’t have this figured out, and I suspect it will be a lifelong practice. But I’m beginning to trust that the parts of me that feel most unguarded, most authentic, and most ordinary are also the most whole.

I wonder if you’ve had a moment like that — when you realized the strategies you thought were “working” were actually keeping you from the very connection you longed for.

If this brings to mind any thoughts or reflections, I’d love to hear them. Feel free to respond here and share your thoughts.

Warmly,

Rachel

Rachel Ledbetter, LMFT
CEO/Co-Founder, Motivo
rachel@motivohealth.com