Max Littman, LCSW
November 26, 2025
Daniel Siegel likes to say that he is not Dan. He is Dan-ing. The first time I heard him offer that, I felt a clunk in my body. It made sense. It clicked.
In Siegel’s work on neurobiology and personality, identity is presented as an ongoing process shaped by integration. Neural networks are always in motion. Relationships are an alchemy that change us. Experiences arrive, settle, loosen, and reorganize. The brain does not stop moving, even during sleep. Personality is not a fixed structure. It is a living pattern that keeps adjusting in response to context and what is being felt, remembered, imagined, and needed. Identity, in this view, is more like a verb than a noun. It is continually in the act of forming and reforming.
When Siegel speaks about integration, he is describing the way differentiated parts of a system remain linked without losing their uniqueness. Separate, yet connected. In the mind, this shows up as separate neural regions communicating smoothly rather than competing for dominance. In relationships, it looks like two people staying connected while still maintaining their own perspectives. Integration matters because it creates flexibility. A mind that can weave together sensation, emotion, memory, and meaning without collapsing into rigidity or chaos becomes more capable of responding to life rather than reacting to it. Identity is shaped within this integrated flow. As the system becomes more coherent, the sense of self becomes less about defending a fixed definition and more about participating in an ongoing process of being and becoming. To Siegel, health, wellness, and wholeness are almost synonymous with integration.
In IFS, we can see this in the difference between burdened parts and unburdened parts, or to frame it in a way that feels less binary, the difference between burdened parts and parts that have become or just are more whole and integrated. When an internal system is burdened, identity is treated like and believed to be a noun. It is seen as a solid and experienced as heavy. It solidifies around a single meaning, frequently “I am bad”. A part that carries shame might believe the whole system to be one entity and unworthy. A protector carrying pressure might believe it is alone and responsible for everything. A firefighter might insist it is the one who has to keep us numb. These roles are confused to be fixed identities for survival purposes. They bring certainty, which brings safety.
When a part is unburdened or integrated, the sense of self becomes more fluid. Identity begins to be treated like a verb again. There is room for integration: differentiation with linkage, separate yet connected. Instead of I am bad, there is a shift toward this feels bad. Instead of I am alone and responsible for everything, there is responding to what is here. Instead of I am the one who must numb us, there is trying to help in the way that was learned, and maybe there is another way now. The statements leave some breathing room. And sometimes there are no statements at all, no clear cognitive awareness, just sensing and moving and adapting in without a need for fanfare or reflection.
In unburdened or integrated states, we are no longer a noun locked inside a single storyline. We are ourselves-ing in real time.
When identity functions as a verb, it makes room for nuance. It allows for change without implying that something old must be discarded or be deemed as bad. Identity as a verb brings acceptance that who we are is actively emerging, influenced by the contexts we move through and the internal relationships we cultivate. Our system becomes less about maintaining a singular definition and more about participating in an ongoing process.
There is something both comforting and unmooring about this for my system. Parts of me want so badly to be seen as good, valuable, competent, and doing things correctly. Mike Elkin, on the Self Led in Bed podcast, spoke about a fundamental dynamic among parts: wanting to be seen as good and terrified of being seen as bad. I feel that in myself. Those parts prefer identity as a noun because it gives them something solid to hold. If I am good, I can orient toward good. If I am competent, I can orient myself toward being competent. There is safety in that.
When identity becomes a verb, these parts lose certainty and control. This is where the unmooring happens for me. Awareness shifts toward the reality that goodness and competence are not guaranteed states. They are also revealed to be illusions that obscure something truer and more fundamental: love.
And yet, there is comfort here too. Identity becomes a set of ongoing actions that breathe and shift. If identity is always in motion, then badness is not fixed either. Incorrectness is not a permanent mark. Nothing is final. There is room to keep becoming. If goodness and badness are illusions and love is truth, there is less to be feared. These parts do not always relax into those truths, but something in me recognizes their importance and their ability to bring harmony to the whole system.
When I have access to abundant Self energy, when there is integration and parts are in harmony with each other and with Me, I am not Max. I am Max-ing. I invite you to consider this for yourself. You are not just you. You are you-ing. Notice what happens inside as you take that in.
Sometimes I find myself wondering what this will mean for my daughter. Her identity-ing is just beginning. I do not know yet how she will be shaped or how she will shape herself, what contexts will influence her, or which relationships will help her grow toward or sustain integration. I imagine small and quiet forces that will contribute to her becoming. The way someone’s face softens when they see her. The tone of a voice that makes her feel safe. The frustrations she will meet and the comforts she will receive. The parts that will form inside her and the ways they will try to help her. All of it will participate in her being and becoming. I have no desire to define her. I want to watch and nurture how she begins to herself in the world.
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.
