Max Littman, LCSW
February 6, 2026
There is a normalized belief in the IFS community that if we do enough work with our own parts, deeply and consistently, they will not show up in sessions with clients. Or, if they do, it will be rare, brief, and easily corrected. The implication is that good practice looks like clean access to Self, with our parts largely out of the way.
That norm makes sense on the surface. It emphasizes responsibility, self awareness, and the importance of doing our own work. I value all of that. I continue to do extensive work with my own system in my own ways and I encourage others to do the same.
And still, that is not how it always plays out.
My experience, and the experience I hear again and again from other practitioners, is that parts show up in session no matter how much work we have done with them outside of session. They show up because the therapy room is relational. It is demanding. It carries stakes, ethics, responsibility, and exposure. For many parts, the context of the therapy room alone is enough to activate them, regardless of how resourced they feel or how strong our relationship with them is elsewhere.
When the implicit expectation is that our parts should be eliminated from sessions, something subtle but harmful can happen. That expectation can become shaming. It can become controlling. It can recruit manager parts whose job is to keep the system looking clean, competent, and unencumbered. Instead of supporting Self leadership, those managers may tighten their grip, trying to suppress or erase other parts in real time.
Ironically, this often has the opposite effect.
Parts that feel unwelcome or pressured to disappear tend to push harder. They become louder, sneakier, or more rigid. The internal atmosphere becomes one of surveillance rather than collaboration. And Self becomes harder, not easier, to access.
What has helped me is letting go of the goal of removing my parts from session altogether.
In session, I can often sense a familiar constellation of parts nearby. There is a dissociating part that appears when the room gets dense or emotionally saturated. A good girl or good therapist part that wants to do things correctly and be experienced as competent and helpful. A helper part and a striver part that care deeply about quality and usefulness. A perfectionist part that tightens when something feels off or unfinished. There are also exiles I have clarity about that can stir when a client carries something similar. At times, an angry or bitter protector shows up, defending my psychic energy when it feels at risk of being impinged upon or drained. Alongside these, there is a part that tracks my own internal system in real time, a part that connects the dots in the client’s system and in the space between us, and even a relax time part quietly looking toward rest and downtime later. None of these parts are asked to leave.
When I relate to them with respect and curiosity, when I give them even one genuine scrap of the benefit of the doubt, it results in me being in the lead, holding the pacing, direction, and relational presence of the session.
I have been influenced here by Pam Krause, who speaks clearly about Self-like parts and about the misunderstanding embedded in the phrase asking parts to step back. She distinguishes stepping back from relaxing. Stepping back can be experienced by parts as leaving the room or being sent away. Relaxing, by contrast, is an invitation to let Self lead while they remain present in the space, aware, responsive, and available in a supportive role.
She also names something that has matched my lived experience closely. It is very uncommon for anyone to be fully in Self. Parts are almost always there in some capacity. The work is not about their absence. It is about their relationship to our Self.
Once I stopped expecting my parts to vanish, something shifted internally.
Instead of asking parts to unblend, step back, or relax during session, which for some of my parts feels like too much of an ask in that context, I began tracking them with a different attitude. I notice them. I sense their energy.
Most importantly, I give them the benefit of the doubt.
This stance alone has been surprisingly effective.
When I assume my parts are showing up for understandable reasons, not because I have failed or because they are interfering, they tend to settle on their own. Not fully. Not always. But enough. Enough that they are no longer driving the session. Enough that they can function more like assistants rather than leaders.
Tracking in this way is not about indulging parts or letting them run the show. It is about forming a working relationship with them in real time. When parts feel appreciated and recognized, they often do not need to push as hard. Even parts that find it extremely difficult to unblend in session can soften when they are met with respect rather than correction.
What I often notice then is not a dramatic arrival of Self, but small drips of access. A bit more spaciousness. A bit more clarity. A bit more capacity to stay with the client without being internally crowded. Over time, those drips add up.
I now think of this as a more realistic and humane internal standard.
Rather than aiming for sessions to be free of parts, I assume my parts will be there and keep an eye out for them. When they show up, I meet them in my own way with something like hello, nice to see you, I value you, and you are welcome to stay as long as you need. My system feels less controlled and more respected. This approach has made it easier for me to lead.
The more I practice this, the calmer, more compassionate, more present, more spacious, more attuned, and more curious I become.
My intuition tells me this way of relating to my own system reaches my client’s system as well.
For feedback and comments, I can be reached at max@maxlittman.com.
I provide consultation and therapy for therapists.
Purchase my new book IFS Therapy for Gay and Queer Men here.
