Coming Home to My Body: How I Found IFS Through Food, Parts, and a Lot of Squiggles
My first introduction to Internal Family Systems (IFS) almost stopped me in my tracks. The therapist asked me to draw the part I was working with — and suddenly, I shut down. I scribbled a squiggle, awkward and annoyed. It felt silly. Later, I realized I had a part that refused to draw because somewhere deep inside, I still carried the sting of getting a “D” in elementary school art — for tracing my hand when I was supposed to free-draw it. That part decided right then and there: “We don’t draw.”
So no, my start with IFS wasn’t exactly magical. But thankfully, I found my way back.
Down the road, I was locked in a familiar battle with food — trying (again) to “get it together” with a new diet, new rules, new shame. That’s when I discovered Everett Considine’s work, and for the first time, I began to meet my parts around food. What a revelation.
I discovered what I now call Sergeant Self-Control, or sometimes the Health Guru. This part had me on every plan imaginable: diets, exercise challenges, wellness regimens with all the intensity of a drill sergeant. It was fierce, rigid, relentless. "Go big or go home," it would bark. And behind its megaphone was a belief: if we eat right and exercise, we’ll feel better — and the key is self-discipline.
But then there were other parts. Parts who loved food. Parts who wanted to celebrate, to feel comfort, to belong. These parts rolled their eyes at Sergeant Self-Control and said, “No thanks — we want pleasure, not punishment.” They were the ones who reached for the ice cream at the end of a hard day, who rebelled against the rules, who reminded me that food is more than fuel. It’s family. It’s fun. It’s feeling alive.
And here’s the thing: both sides had a point.
In IFS, we call this a polarization — two parts stuck in opposition, each trying to protect me in its own way. One clings to control, the other to freedom. Neither is bad. Neither is wrong. But they weren’t listening to each other — and I wasn’t listening to any of them.
That was my entry point. And from there, the work deepened. Through personal IFS work and formal training, I began to realize that under the surface of these polarized parts were younger, exiled parts — the ones carrying shame, fear, pain, and grief about my body, my worth, my value. Parts that had absorbed impossible standards, cultural lies, and family legacies about food, beauty, and control. These parts didn’t need a better diet. They needed to be seen. Held. Heard.
Because no weight loss or clean eating plan can heal the part of me that believes I’m not good enough.
And it breaks my heart to see so many people — especially women, especially helpers — stuck in this same exhausting cycle. Trying to fix their food issues when what they really need is healing. Confused by mixed messages from the wellness world, the Church, the medical community, and their own internal critics.
I don’t pretend to have this all figured out. I’m still doing my own work. I still hear from Sergeant Self-Control and the sugar-loving rebels. But I’m listening now. And I’d love to help others do the same.
Introducing: Embodied and Beloved: A 6-week IFS-Informed Journey into Food, Body, and Self-Compassion
This fall, my colleague Lori Inkrot and I are offering a group for those who want to explore their relationship with food, eating, and body image through the lens of Internal Family Systems and compassionate curiosity.
This isn’t about a diet. It’s not about what you should weigh or what you should look like. It’s about listening to your body, honoring your story, and beginning to love yourself — right where you are.
All parts are welcome. Squiggles optional!
