I deeply honor the wisdom of the 12 Steps. They saved my life and continue to guide my recovery. I do this work alongside the Steps, in tandem, because supporting my nervous system helped facilitate the spiritual awakening the Steps offer.
For much of my life, trauma kept me from living in my body. Going inside did not feel safe. Stillness felt threatening. Meditation wasn’t grounding—it was overwhelming. My system was organized around survival, not presence.
I had willingness. I believed in the Steps. I understood the spiritual principles. But without nervous system safety, I couldn’t consistently embody them. What I knew intellectually couldn’t fully land in my body.
This work reflects what I needed in addition to the 12 Steps: support for nervous system safety so surrender, connection, and awakening could be experienced—not just understood. As my nervous system became more regulated, the teachings of the Steps became livable. I could be present. I could feel connected. I could stay.
This is not a replacement for the 12 Steps. It is a companion to them—offered for those who sense that their recovery, too, needs to include the body.

The first thing the 12 Steps gave me was community.
I was no longer carrying my pain, fear, and shame in isolation. Being with others who understood my experience softened something in me that had been clenched for a long time.

Naming my struggles out loud — without being judged — helped loosen shame.
I learned that addiction wasn’t a moral failure, but a response to pain. That shift alone created space for compassion to begin.

The Steps offered a simple structure when my inner world was chaotic.
Meetings, rituals, and shared language gave my nervous system something steady to hold onto during a time when I couldn’t yet trust myself.

I learned the difference between control and surrender.
The Steps taught me that healing didn’t come from forcing change, but from letting go of what I couldn’t manage alone — and allowing support in.

The 12 Steps helped me take responsibility for my actions without collapsing into self-blame.
I could tell the truth about harm while still holding my own humanity.

More than anything, the Steps helped restore my capacity for relationship.
With others.
With something larger than me.
And eventually, with myself.
While the 12 Steps helped me stay sober, they didn’t fully address how trauma was stored in my nervous system.
My body was still bracing for danger long after the threat was gone. Insight alone couldn’t reach those deeper survival responses.
I learned new beliefs, but my nervous system hadn’t caught up.
Even in sobriety, my body remained on high alert — cycling through anxiety, collapse, and emotional overwhelm. I didn’t yet understand that healing required felt safety, not just willpower or surrender.
Underneath my behaviors lived old, unspoken beliefs:
These beliefs weren’t conscious choices — they were formed early, before language, and they continued to shape my life quietly and powerfully.
I was often told to “let go,” but my system didn’t know how.
What looked like resistance was actually protection. My body was holding on because it didn’t yet trust that it would survive without its defenses.
What was missing was an approach that worked from the bottom up — through the body, the nervous system, and relationship — not just the mind.
I needed experiences that showed my system, slowly and consistently, that it was safe to soften.
Ultimately, I didn’t need to try harder.
I needed regulated relationship — spaces where I wasn’t alone, wasn’t being fixed, and wasn’t required to perform healing.
That’s where real change began.
Internal Family Systems (IFS) is a compassionate framework for understanding our inner world. It’s based on the idea that we all have different parts—aspects of us that developed to help us cope, protect ourselves, or survive difficult experiences.
These parts aren’t bad or broken. Even when their strategies are no longer helpful, they are trying to help in the only ways they know how.
At the core of IFS is Self—with a capital S. Self is not a part. It is our steady, grounded center, marked by qualities like calm, clarity, compassion, honesty, and humility. When we’re led by Self, we’re more present, responsible, and connected—to ourselves and to others.
IFS helps us notice when parts are activated, relate to them with curiosity rather than judgment, and return leadership to Self. Over time, this supports healing, integration, and a more honest relationship with ourselves.
Used alongside recovery and nervous system work, IFS becomes a practical way of living—one that supports awareness, accountability, and connection without self-attack.

IFS enabled me to approach my inner world with compassion and understanding. Instead of seeing my reactions as flaws, I learned to see them as maladaptive coping strategies that once served a purpose.
This compassion allowed me to face my so-called “character defects” without self-attack or shame. Rather than trying to be rid of flaws in m
IFS enabled me to approach my inner world with compassion and understanding. Instead of seeing my reactions as flaws, I learned to see them as maladaptive coping strategies that once served a purpose.
This compassion allowed me to face my so-called “character defects” without self-attack or shame. Rather than trying to be rid of flaws in my makeup, I could meet the places in me that had been shaped by fear, pain, and survival—and begin to heal them.
As those places healed, new responses didn’t have to be forced. They emerged naturally, from greater awareness, responsibility, and choice.

IFS helped me gently meet parts of myself that carried fear, shame, and grief.
It allowed me to listen rather than override, and to heal without forcing change.
This work supported emotional honesty, not spiritual bypass, and helped me stay present with what was actually happening inside me.

IFS did not replace the 12 Steps for me. It supported my ability to work them.
By bringing more internal awareness and compassion, I could take responsibility without collapse, look at my patterns without self-attack, and remain engaged in the process of recovery.

Today, I integrate IFS as a way of staying in relationship with myself. It helps me notice when parts are activated, respond with care, and return to steadiness. Used alongside recovery and nervous system work, it has become a practical tool for living with more clarity, humility, and connection.
I’ve also learned that this work doesn’t ha
Today, I integrate IFS as a way of staying in relationship with myself. It helps me notice when parts are activated, respond with care, and return to steadiness. Used alongside recovery and nervous system work, it has become a practical tool for living with more clarity, humility, and connection.
I’ve also learned that this work doesn’t happen in isolation. Many of our patterns were formed in relationship, and they heal most naturally in relationship.
Practicing this in community allows reactions to be noticed in real time and met with awareness rather than shame.
This is why I gather women in circles. Not to fix or teach, but to practice being present together—to build the capacity to stay connected to ourselves and to one another as we grow.

In Internal Family Systems, we all have parts—aspects of us that developed to help us cope, protect ourselves, or survive. These parts aren’t bad or broken; they’re responses shaped by experience. When they’re activated, they can drive reactions that feel automatic or out of alignment with who we truly are.
Beneath these parts is Self—with
In Internal Family Systems, we all have parts—aspects of us that developed to help us cope, protect ourselves, or survive. These parts aren’t bad or broken; they’re responses shaped by experience. When they’re activated, they can drive reactions that feel automatic or out of alignment with who we truly are.
Beneath these parts is Self—with a capital S. Self is not a part. It is our grounded, steady, wise center. In Self, we experience qualities like calm, clarity, compassion, honesty, and humility. For many in recovery, Self feels familiar—it aligns closely with what the 12 Steps point toward when we talk about spiritual awakening and right relationship.
Healing happens as we learn to notice our parts without being run by them and return to Self as our inner guide. This isn’t about fixing ourselves; it’s about restoring leadership to Self.
Relational healing matters because many of our parts were formed in relationship, and they soften most naturally in relationship. In safe community, we can notice activation, stay present, speak honestly, and return to Self with support. Over time, this builds trust—within ourselves and with others.

Internal Family Systems can be practiced gently and responsibly in community when the focus is on awareness, not analysis. In circles, we’re not doing therapy or trying to fix one another. We’re learning to notice what’s happening inside us—in real time—and return to Self.
Community settings make this work alive. Parts often show up in rel
Internal Family Systems can be practiced gently and responsibly in community when the focus is on awareness, not analysis. In circles, we’re not doing therapy or trying to fix one another. We’re learning to notice what’s happening inside us—in real time—and return to Self.
Community settings make this work alive. Parts often show up in relationship: when we’re seen, misunderstood, triggered, or moved. In a safe, contained group, we can name what’s present, stay grounded, and respond from Self rather than react from a part.
Practiced this way, IFS supports humility, honesty, and connection. It helps us take responsibility for our inner experience while staying in relationship with others.
Over time, this builds trust—within ourselves and within the group—and strengthens our capacity to live and recover in alignment with Self.

IFS is integrated into circles as a shared language for self-awareness, not as therapy. We don’t analyze one another or try to fix what’s coming up. Instead, we use simple IFS principles to help each woman notice her inner experience and return to Self.
In circles, participants are invited to speak from what they’re noticing rather than ab
IFS is integrated into circles as a shared language for self-awareness, not as therapy. We don’t analyze one another or try to fix what’s coming up. Instead, we use simple IFS principles to help each woman notice her inner experience and return to Self.
In circles, participants are invited to speak from what they’re noticing rather than about others. When a reaction arises, it’s named with curiosity and care—without judgment or urgency to change it. This supports personal responsibility while maintaining connection within the group.
The emphasis is always on Self-leadership. Women are encouraged to pause, feel, and respond from a grounded place rather than react from a part. Over time, this builds the capacity to stay present in relationship, even when something tender is activated.
Used this way, IFS becomes a practical tool for living—not a technique to master. It supports honesty, humility, and relational repair, allowing circles to remain safe, contained, and human.
The idea of Self (capital S) is not new and it didn’t come from therapy. For centuries, people have used Self to name the part of us that is:
It’s the part of us that can tell the truth, make amends, and act with integrity — even when it’s uncomfortable.
Different traditions used different names. The meaning stayed the same. IFS didn’t invent Self.
It simply gave modern language to something humans already knew.
In Alcoholics Anonymous, the word self usually means something very specific — and very human.
When AA talks about:
It is not talking about healthy identity or confidence.
It’s talking about the part of us that:
AA noticed long ago that this kind of “self” is what keeps people stuck. That’s why the Big Book says:
“Selfishness—self-centeredness! That, we think, is the root of our troubles.” This isn’t a moral judgment. It’s an observation about how fear-driven behavior works.
There’s an important distinction many traditions point to: ego / small-s self and Self / Higher Self / God within.
In Alcoholics Anonymous, the problem was never having a self. The problem was letting a fear-based self run the show. When AA says, “We turned our will and our lives over,” it’s not asking you to disappear.
It’s asking you to stop letting the frightened, controlling part of you drive.
When that happens, what’s left is natural and familiar: calm, clarity, honesty, care for others, and responsibility without shame.
That’s Self.
IFS simply made the distinction explicit:
AA talked about this indirectly. IFS gave it a map.
Both are pointing to the same truth:
When fear quiets down, something wiser naturally emerges. Ego is who we become when we’re scared.
Self is who we are when we’re not.
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