Max Littman, LCSW
September 21, 2025
In IFS practice, countertransference often takes center stage. We learn to notice the expressions of our own parts and how they color the therapeutic relationship and the healing process. This attention to our inner life has given us a rich vocabulary for and an exquisite pathway to staying present. But there is another energetic current that runs just as strongly through the room: the ways clients’ parts see and react to us, often without realizing they are doing so. Transference.
Why Countertransference Dominates
It makes sense that countertransference has received greater emphasis than transference in IFS spaces. The IFS model is grounded in awareness of one’s own system, and we are consistently encouraged to turn toward our protectors and exiles with curiosity so that we can steady ourselves for the work.
Learning IFS is largely experiential, and the central teaching is that the relationship between a person’s parts and their Self is what makes healing possible. This marked a major shift in the therapy field which has often centered the client–therapist relationship above all else. Alongside this, practitioners are implicitly—and at times explicitly—discouraged from analyzing or interpreting our client’s system. Insight work, the relationship between a client’s Self and parts, is elevated above interpretation or meaning-making by us, the therapist. In this light, countertransference fits easily: it feels natural to notice our own parts, to know them well, to name them in consultation, to observe how they react, and to be able to help them back into balance.
Transference, on the other hand, can be more elusive when we practice IFS. When a client’s part looks at us and sees someone from their past, the meanings do not belong to us, even as they are directed our way. Inner systems—no matter how practiced in self-reflection or fluent in IFS language—will blend when the going gets tough, when a burden surfaces.
This can be noticed in a client’s voice, posture, breath, gaze, gestures (or stillness), and in the very words they choose. In those moments, they may be so blended they cannot see it without our reflection—and at times, our interpretation. The temptation can be to ignore these cues or let them drift by, particularly since IFS emphasizes following the client’s system rather than imposing meaning. We can move into implicit or explicit direct access, but that does not address the larger frame. And when these moments are left unattended, something vital is lost: the chance to notice how the past quietly inhabits the present, and how our presence can invite new possibilities.
Transference in an IFS Frame
From an IFS perspective, transference is when a part mistakes us for someone else. Managers may hold us at a distance, as if we were dangerous. Exiles may cling, convinced we can finally provide what they once needed. Firefighters may test, watching closely to see if we will punish or abandon them.
The invitation is not to correct the distortion but to stay curious about it. A simple question—“Who do I remind you of right now?”—can bring the transferential lens into focus. From there, the part can be met directly. The aim is to rebalance the relationship and bring it into the present as much as possible. When that happens, the relationship itself becomes corrective and a place of rediscovery and possibility.
The Risk of Underestimation
When transference goes unnoticed and unexplored, we may find ourselves pulled into reenactments without realizing it. A client expecting dismissal may read our silence as withdrawal. A client bracing against intrusion may feel criticized even when no judgment is offered. Without naming and staying curious about these dynamics, we risk confirming the very expectations the client’s system carries, further entrenching burdens, protector strategies, and the exiles who are hidden away.
Attending to transference means slowing down enough to notice what hangs in the space between us, and inviting our clients to wonder with us about who we feel like to them. These small moments reveal how a system organizes itself in a relationship. They also give clients the rare chance to watch their parts move in real time while another person is steady, attuned, and safe.
What this looks like in practice is often subtle—less about grand interventions and more about noticing, naming, and staying present. Two examples below illustrate how transference can emerge and how attending to it can quietly shift the ground of the therapeutic relationship.
Case Example 1: An Absent Father
One client had been abandoned early in childhood by his father. In session, his questions often carried an edge of doubt, as though he were waiting for me to disappear. At one point he asked directly, “You’re not really going to stay with this, are you?”
The pull to reassure him was strong. Instead, I asked who I seemed like to him in that moment. He averted his eyes and said quietly, “My dad”. He went on to describe moments of abandonment. I felt a heavy sadness settle in my shoulders and gut. I stayed with him in that recognition—neither defending myself nor rushing past it. I acknowledged his fears, named how they touched me, and shared how I felt toward him while leaving space for his system to reveal anything more it needed to me.
The moment where transference was named became a trailhead: we spent time with the exile who had been abandoned by his father, eventually shifting to insight work. Over time, the steady consistency of my presence itself became part of the therapy: a chance for his system to sense that authority could be reliable, that a man could stay even through tough times.
Case Example 2: Intrusive Parents
Another client grew up with parents who hovered, correcting and instructing at every turn. A part of him still carried the stance of a boy trying to carve out space to do things on his own. In therapy, that part blended easily. Whenever I offered feedback, he would stiffen, as if bracing for intrusion—his eyes blank and wide yet piercing, fixed in anger, and his words denying a Self-like part while leaning on a calm, spirituality-tinged agenda for healing.
I began to notice how much shifted when I simply held space and said little. His shoulders eased. His words came with less strain. He tried out new thoughts without watching for interference. There was a gradual unfolding: his system experiencing what it was like for authority to remain present without taking over, for him to be accompanied without being controlled.
Attending to transference can take many forms. In this instance, it was noticed but not explicitly named. By attuning to his system’s needs and honoring the boundaries set by his protectors, the work was able to move toward healing.
What to Notice and Self-led Response
Transference often shows itself in small details of the exchange. A few places to pay attention:
- Tone and pacing: Hesitations, sudden quickening, or a guarded edge that seems out of step with the moment.
- Expectations that don’t fit: A client anticipating criticism, intrusion, or abandonment when nothing in the present suggests it.
- Disproportionate charge: A strong emotional response to something minor—a pause, a glance, a silence.
When these dynamics emerge, both inner and outer responses can steady the work:
- Internally: Notice your own pull to defend, reassure, or correct. Return to Self so you can stay present without rushing to resolve.
- Externally: Bring gentle curiosity. A question like “Who do I feel like to you right now?” or a simple reflection of what you notice in the moment can make the field visible without imposing meaning.
Bringing Transference In
Transference is woven into every therapeutic relationship. It shapes how trust builds, how silence is taken in, and how closeness is felt—whether as safety or as suffocation. These patterns live in the texture of the exchange, surfacing in pauses, tones, and gestures. When met with steadiness and curiosity, they offer parts the rare chance to experience something new.
IFS can prepare us well for this. The same qualities we bring to our own inner work—openness, patience, presence, curiosity—can help us stay with the transferential and relational fields without rushing to resolve the energies within them. The focus on countertransference keeps us attuned to our own systems. Transference reminds us how deeply our client’s history lives in the room. Both deserve attention, and together they enrich the soil where new relational possibilities can take root.
For feedback and comments, I can be reached at max@maxlittman.com.
I provide consultation and therapy for therapists.
