Words&Dirt

Summary:

Richard C. Schwartz’s You Are the One You’ve Been Waiting For is a guide for applying Schwartz’s Internal Family Systems (IFS) model of psychotherapy to intimate relationships. IFS posits that all people have a multiplicity of subpersonalities called “parts,” each of which has its own perspectives, beliefs, needs, goals, and special place in a person’s “internal family system.” Schwartz argues that romantic relationships are compromised when partners rely on one other to care for their parts in ways they are not able to––the classic “you complete me” paradigm. The solution to this problem is for each individual to learn to be the “primary caretaker” of their parts through a process of internal exploration and dialogue, opening the way to what Schwartz calls “courageous love.”

Key Concepts and Notes:

• Generally speaking, Schwartz displays a keen intellect and compassionate heart about relationship dynamics. Many of the observations and insights in this book will be useful even to readers who do not buy into the whole IFS modality/framework.
• Although I am wary of getting too enthusiastic about any single therapeutic modality at this early point in my career, I have to admit that engaging with IFS has significantly improved both how I conceptualize client cases and work with clients in sessions. I don’t think the notion that people have different “parts” is particularly novel, but I am finding Schwartz’s language and understanding of how parts form and interact to be useful and accessible for my clients. In particular, I have observed that helping clients learn to become the “primary caretaker” of their parts instead of expecting their partners, family members, and/or friends to do so appears to be both liberating and empowering for them.
• One critical component of Schwartz’s model is the concept of the “Self,” which he defines as “a calm, centered state” that allows people to access “something deeper and more foundational than all these conflicting inner warriors––something that spiritual traditions often call ‘soul’ or ‘essence'” or “mindfulness” (8). In the past I have often been allergic to these kinds of ideas, usually because they invoke some supernatural element and/or violate my understanding of current neuroscience, which is that we cannot find any “seat” or “center” where consciousness or “you-ness” manifests in the brain. However, I have become more open to Schwartz’s version of the Self, which is essentially our most mindful, compassionate, and curious part that is the “natural leader” of our internal family system. Indeed, Schwartz posits that learning and embracing “Self-leadership” is the pathway to becoming the primary caretaker of our parts. Two other related skills include maintaining Self-leadership by remaining the “I” in the storm of both inner and outer conflicts, as well as learning to let the Self “speak for” your parts rather than “speaking from” them.
• I also really like Schwartz’s suggestion that our romantic partners can become “tor-mentors”–– companions who precipitate self-inquiry by accidentally causing us to experience challenging and unpleasant emotions. Schwartz characterizes the experience of being triggered by our partner as an  “emotional trailhead” on our journey toward greater insight, self-knowledge, and relational connection. He sees a certain level of non-abusive conflict as both inevitable and desirable in romance, and urges readers to focus more on constructing healthy “repair processes” rather than trying to eliminate conflict altogether.
• I think the IFS model syncs nicely with several other psychological concepts that anchor my current therapeutic stance. These include Scott Barry Kaufman’s “healthy transcendence,” Carl Rogers’s “empathic understanding” and “unconditional positive regard,” and Terrence Real’s “relational heroism.” IFS also aligns with the core tenets of Motivational Interviewing and the Buddhist idea of the “Boddhicitta,” which I recently learned about from one of my clients. In one way or another, all of these frameworks focus on helping people achieve healing, growth, and self-actualization not merely for its own sake, but also as an active commitment to improving the welfare of other living beings.
• I had a few critiques of this book that I think are worth sharing. As mentioned earlier, the idea of “parts” isn’t new, despite the hyped-up IFS marketing language. One way to think about “parts” is that they are imaginary personifications of past wounds and coping/defense mechanisms adopted to compensate for or conceal those wounds. These are foundational dynamics that are addressed effectively by a wide range of modalities, so the “added value” of IFS shouldn’t be overstated. Further, treating the “parts” as full characters/subpersonalities might not be ideal for some clients, even if it works well for others. I haven’t gone deep enough yet in my own work to have an opinion about the usefulness of trying to “draw out” different parts and speak to them directly, but I imagine results will vary depending on the particular method(s) and relationship between therapist and client.
• For readers who are concerned with the question of how IFS “stacks up” compared to other modalities, this book will be disappointing. I’m not sure if Schwartz presents such evidence elsewhere, but this book contains not a single study––let alone an established body of research––to demonstrate that IFS produces comparable or better results than other therapeutic approaches.
• Like many books in this genre, You Are the One You’ve Been Waiting For is both very short but also repetitive. The book contains several excellent summaries at the ends of chapters, and many readers could just read those plus the introduction and come away with a solid understanding of the book’s content. It also doesn’t have an index, which I found annoying.
• The one area where I found myself consistently disagreeing with Schwartz was his argument that clients “don’t need to learn communication skills…because your hearts are open and you have access to the qualities of the Self” (92). Schwartz makes this point a few different times and I always found it unconvincing. Sure, some people will communicate effectively once they sooth their vulnerable parts and tap into the Self, but I have a strong intuition that others will still struggle to find the right words even when assuming a Self-led position. The argument that teaching communication skills is unnecessary feels like a cheap way for Schwartz to discredit other modalities that are more focused on the communicative aspects of relationship dysfunction. Perhaps I am being too uncharitable here, but I can’t figure out why Schwartz wouldn’t temper this attitude with something like: “Even after Self-leadership is achieved, some clients will need extra help articulating themselves in a way that feels authentic, and that their partners can also receive.”
• On a final personal note, I’d like to say that IFS has provided me with some very helpful insights about my personality structure. I’m learning that my Self is often profoundly identified/blended with my powerful managerial parts, which can be very useful for getting things done but also harmful to my relationships. I feel like learning to more readily unblend my Self from my fear-based and productivity-driven protector parts is a meaningful and exciting growth horizon for me at this moment.

Favorite Quotes:

When people listen deeply inside, they encounter a host of different feelings, fantasies, thoughts, impulses, and sensations that make up the background noise of our everyday experience of being in the world. When people remain focused on and ask questions of one of those inner experiences, they find that it is more than merely a transient thought or emotion. Within each of us is a complex family of subpersonalities, which I call parts. These parts are the reasons we can simultaneously have so many contradictory and confusing needs. The American poet Walt Whitman got it right in “Song of Myself”: “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself. (I am large, I contain multitudes).” So do we all contain multitudes. Thus, the Oracle of Dephi’s admonition to “know thyself” should really be to “know thyselves.” (7)

Another kind of happiness exists that you feel steadily whether you are in a relationship or not. It comes from the sense of connectedness that happens when all your parts love one another and trust and feel accepted by your Self. When you have that kind of love swirling around inside you, it spills out to people around you, and those people become part of your circle of love and support. You don’t need intimate others to keep you out of the inner dark sea because that sea has been drained of its pain, shame, and fear. In your inner world, your parts are on dry, solid land and are well housed and nourished. They trust you to be their primary caretaker, which allows your partner the freedom and delight that come with being their secondary caretaker. (18)

The ability to hold the multiplicity perspective about yourself and your partner is enhanced by the simple (but often difficult) act of speaking for, rather than from, your parts. If, when you get angry, you say, “A part of me hates you right now,” your partner gets an entirely different message than if you say, “I hate you right now.” This is not just because the former words remind your partner that it is just a part, not all of you. It is also because in speaking for a part, you have to separate from it to some degree, so what you say doesn’t carry the same level of charge or contempt as when the part totally hijacks you and you speak from it. Later in this book, we will explore in depth this practice of speaking for, rather than from, your parts. For now, the point is that anything that reminds you and your partner that you both have a multiplicity of parts, and that you both have a Self in there somewhere, helps hold connection even during the perfect storms in your relationship. (29)

Our exiles are a buried treasure that, because they are in a state of tremendous pain and need, we experience as toxic waste and remain convinced that if we get near them, we will be contaminated. Everyone around us agrees that we shouldn’t go there and instead should just get over it and not look back. This is because no one understands that what is toxic are the emotions and beliefs the exiles carry––their burdens––not the exiled parts themselves. On the contrary, those parts are the vulnerability, sensitivity, playfulness, creativity, and spontaneity that are the heart of intimacy. How can we expect to enjoy our partner when we’ve buried our joy? When relationships seem bland and tasteless, each partner blames the other without realizing that they both forgot where they hid the spice. (43)

When you have courageous love for your partner, at another level you feel more connected and similar to them than when you were anxious. You understand what the nineteenth century philosopher William James meant when he said at the turn of the century, “Every bit of us, at every moment, is part and parcel of a wider self.” You recognize that at the level of your Selves, you are not different because you are drops of the same divine ocean or sparks of the same eternal flame, part and parcel of the wider Self. It is this realization of connectedness that allows you to give your partner the freedom to grow. (78)

Is it possible not just to pretend to feel confident, compassionate, clear, and calm but to actually be in that state even while you are highly triggered? Because many of us have been socialized to believe that we have only one personality, this idea is foreign: “You are either angry or you are calm. How can you be both at the same time?” Once you get to know your parts and your Self, you understand that it is possible. Your Self becomes the “I” in the storm––the calm center of the inner tornado of your triggered parts and the outer hurricane of upset parts in the people around you. (111)

By getting your parts to relax and trust you to speak for them, you become an empty vessel that can collide with other people without making them feel demeaned, competitive, pushed, repulsed, or otherwise protective. You have emptied your boat of egoistic parts, but calling it empty is misleading because your emptied vessel becomes filled with Self energy. Self energy has a soothing effect on any parts it touches whether they are in you or in another person.

When your parts trust that you will speak for them, they feel less driven to take over and explode at people. What they really want is to have a voice––to be listened to by you and to have their position represented to others. Like people who have not been able to be authentic and fully express themselves, most parts don’t need dramatic, cathartic expression––just acknowledgment and representation. (113-4)

It turns out that our needs are pretty simple: to be seen and embraced, and to see and embrace. When we can clear away enough of the jungle to do that, we find a partner for life whose goal is to support our mutual learning and unburdening. With that blessing comes the joy of knowing we are doing what we are here to do, and we are not doing it alone. (159-60)

Rating: 8/10