Family gatherings, particularly with relatives we’re hoping to maintain a relationship with but feel conflicted about, can be fraught with tension. You may want to approach these interactions with neutrality, but it can be hard when past emotions, unresolved issues, or triggering behaviors surface. Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy offers a powerful tool for navigating these tricky dynamics, helping you process internal reactions and show up as your best self in these situations.

Before heading into a family interaction that feels challenging—like a dinner with a relative you care about but also need to stay neutral with—taking a few moments to check in with yourself can make all the difference. The key is learning to work with your inner parts, the different facets of yourself that hold various emotions, beliefs, and reactions. Here’s a simple visualization exercise inspired by IFS to help you prepare emotionally and mentally before you see that person.

Step 1: Visualizing the Encounter

First, find a quiet space where you can focus inward without distractions. Close your eyes and visualize the person you’re about to meet. See them in a room with you, at a comfortable distance—just far enough that you don’t feel overwhelmed but close enough that you can sense their presence. Allow your mind to settle and observe how you feel towards them. Pay attention to any emotions that arise.

In IFS, these initial feelings are part of your “parts”—different aspects of your internal world that may be carrying past experiences, fears, or expectations. These feelings are often a mix of past wounds, protective instincts, and genuine desire to connect. Whatever emotional response emerges—be it discomfort, frustration, defensiveness, or even warmth—is valid, but it’s important to acknowledge that this reaction is just one part of you, not your whole self.

Step 2: Checking In with the Part of You

Now, ask yourself: What is this part worried about? What are you afraid might happen in this upcoming interaction? What does this part of you think is at stake in the relationship? Take a few moments to tune in to any physical sensations or thoughts that arise as you ask these questions.

It’s essential to give voice to whatever this part is feeling—whether it’s fear of judgment, anxiety about conflict, or a desire for approval. The more you listen to this part, the more you can understand its motivation and its role in protecting you from emotional discomfort. Acknowledge that this part is trying to help, even if its methods aren’t always in line with your greater goal of staying neutral.

Step 3: Creating Distance

Once you’ve acknowledged the worries and emotions of this part, ask it to step behind a glass wall. Imagine this glass wall as a safe barrier that allows you to keep the part’s feelings and reactions in view without letting them overwhelm you. This barrier helps create the space you need to remain grounded and neutral, while also maintaining compassion for yourself.

Next, do the same for any other reactions you might have to the person—whether that’s resentment, guilt, or even affection. Each reaction or part can be stepped behind the glass wall, creating more emotional distance until you can clearly observe each one.

Step 4: Gaining Perspective

After you’ve moved all the parts to a safe distance behind the glass, check in with your overall emotional state. What do you feel now? You might notice a shift towards neutrality, curiosity, or even compassion for the person you’re about to see. This is a powerful indication that you’ve processed the parts of you that were contributing to conflict, and you’ve created space for a more balanced, open interaction.

It’s important to notice how you feel internally once these parts are no longer front and center. With no part needing to step in between you and the person, you may find that you feel lighter, calmer, and more open to the possibility of connection. The relationship is no longer defined by your internal emotional landscape; it’s defined by your ability to be present and neutral, while still being true to yourself.

Step 5: Embracing Neutrality or even Compassion

By the time you meet this person, you’ve cleared away much of the emotional baggage that could have clouded the interaction. You’ve given each part of yourself a voice, allowed them to be heard, and then created the space to step forward with compassion and curiosity. This doesn’t mean you have to ignore past hurt or grievances, but it does mean that you’ve processed those feelings enough to show up with intention and openness.

The beauty of IFS is that it allows us to create harmony between our inner parts, so we can navigate difficult relationships with clarity, presence, and, when possible, genuine connection. By using this approach, you can approach family interactions with a sense of peace and emotional neutrality, helping to foster healthier relationships and a deeper understanding of yourself.

A Note on Safety

While this visualization exercise can be a helpful tool, it’s essential to prioritize your safety. If the person you are interacting with has a history of physical or verbal violence, these techniques may not be appropriate. You are not obligated to engage with someone who poses a threat to your well-being, and your safety should always come first.

Disclaimer

This blog is inspired by Introduction to Internal Family Systems (IFS) by Dr. Richard Schwartz. It is not a replacement for therapy. If you are struggling or feel you need additional support, please seek help from a qualified mental health professional.

About the Author: Annabelle Denmark (she/they), MA, LPCC is a therapist based in Lakewood, CO, They specialize in individual therapy for neurodivergent adults. Annabelle utilizes parts work, EMDR and sensorimotor psychotherapy to support people on their healing journey.  

You can find them at www.renegadecounseling.com

For the Marriage, Couple and Family Issues in Counseling class in my graduate program, we needed to complete a genogram, a visual family-tree of sorts that details not only family relationships but also the quality of family relationships. While outlining the family issues in my mother’s father’s family of origin, I noticed patterns of distance, not only in the relationships but also in physical distance. According to my mother, this was due to my maternal grandfather’s own father’s alcoholism and abuse toward his family.

Several of my mother’s aunts and uncles moved far from Ohio at the beginning of the 20th century. One of my mother’s uncles, Edgar, left Ohio to serve during World War II and never returned. My mother had known that Edgar had been injured in a sea battle near American Samoa and chose to stay in Samoa after the war. Throughout my life, Mom told me stories that we had cousins in Samoa, but we had never learned of them or communicated with them.

To complete my project, I decided to try to find our extended family in Samoa, if possible. I followed many cold leads but finally found some people in Samoa with my grandfather’s surname, Ash. I found some names on a gravestone that matched not only my great Uncle, Edgar, but also the names of his/my grandfather’s siblings, including my mother’s middle name, Jean. My mother was named after her cousin, Jean, whose parents died in a shootout in a speakeasy during Prohibition in Cincinnati. Jean was cared for by several in her family, including my grandfather. It had to be more than coincidence that all these names were on one gravestone in Samoa. But yet, the path grew cold as I tried to find any of these people through web searches in Samoa.

On a whim, I looked up “Jean Ash” in Samoa, because that name was on the gravestone. The first search result listed the publisher of the largest newspaper group in Samoa, Jean Ash Malifa. I kept looking past that result because I thought that was probably not right. However, after clicking on several other results that yielded nothing, I decided to click on that. There was no picture and no way for me to verify any possible relationship with this publisher. So, I decided to write a letter to the editor and ask if they knew if Jean had a father, Edgar, who was related to me. I fully expected to be laughed off. But, it was worth a try, and the next day I received an email.

Jarrett, Jean’s youngest son, emailed me saying, “Hi Lisa, you have definitely reached the right place. Jean Ash Malifa is my mother and Edgar Louis Ash is my grandfather.” He went on to detail how they had looked for us for decades after losing touch, even flying to Cincinnati from Samoa to look for family in 2017. They lost hope. Then, they received my email, and it has been a wonderful reunion ever since. The picture at the top of this blog post is of Jean and my Samoan cousin, Jarrett, along with his wife, Anastassia, and Jean’s grandchildren. Jarrett and Anastassia flew out to meet our family this summer for my mom’s 85 th birthday. This spoke to me that although family issues, time, distance, and death can separate us, we can still reconnect if we desire.

Even though my great Uncle Edgar was given a “European” rather than a Samoan funeral, there are aspects of his life and death that span the globe and now bring some qualities of Samoa to my life – like respect for elders, deep love of family, and persevering to bring family together.

There is a strong sense of kinship felt in the connection with my long-lost family members that is prevalent in Samoan society. According to research, this kinship does not end with death but endures and encompasses families and ancestors who have passed, as a continuing bond. (Seuli, 2017) A tradition called “fa’aaloaloga fa’asamoa (or reciprocal distributions)” at the funeral services provides a forum for the grieving family to show their appreciation to their honored guests at the funeral in giving generously to family and guests. Often, fine floor mats made of leaves and bird feathers called “ʻie toga” are exchanged to honor the dead and the grieving family. After the mourning ceremonies, the family and community carry home leftover food and gifts to bring honor to the memory and status of the deceased member through caring for each other in the community as a “e fai mea mafai” or a family who is able to ‘walk the talk’ (Seuli, 2017).

My new-found family has demonstrated this generosity and kindness to us in responding and visiting from a long distance, bringing gifts along with them. I look forward to continuing to build the bonds across the globe that my great Uncle Edgar began decades ago.

For great insight into Samoan culture and rituals, check out the following articles:

Enari, D., & Rangiwai, B. W. (2021). Digital innovation and funeral practices: Māori and Samoan
perspectives during the COVID-19 pandemic. AlterNative: An International Journal of Indigenous
Peoples, 17(2), 346–351. https://doi.org/10.1177/11771801211015568

Seiuli, B. M. S. (2017). Samoan death rituals in a New Zealand context. Journal of Psychology and
Cognition, 2(1), 35–43.

And check out this great article in the Samoan Observer by my cousin, Jarrett Malifa, about our reunion:
https://www.samoaobserver.ws/category/columns/104739

About the Author: As a mother of six sons, Lisa’s greatest joy in life is her family. Tragically, however, in 2002, she and her husband, Aaron, lost their fourth son Benjamin in an unexpected accident. From then on, Lisa experienced a long, painful struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder and deep grief. She was introduced to yoga as a daily practice to help her rest and reset her mind. After over 18 years of her personal growth as a student and a teacher of yoga, she continues to explore the relationship between spirituality, somatics and mental health. She is currently pursuing a master’s degree in clinical mental health counseling at Messiah University and is privileged to work with People House as an Affordable Counseling Intern. Upon licensure, she intends to combine her in-depth knowledge of spiritual practices, yoga, and meditation with clinical counseling techniques to offer holistic therapy to clients, focusing on grief, trauma and bereavement issues for parents.

She lived a long and fulfilling life, centered on family, church & teaching. Her life was also one of great suffering, surviving childhood trauma and the loss of two children early in life. Mom was also a cancer survivor, and outlived my father by 15 years.

My mother was born into poverty in rural Pennsylvania, the daughter of Irish immigrants. Her own mother had crossed the Atlantic, alone, at age 16. She was sent for by family who had come earlier. I’ve tried to imagine the desperation that would drive a young girl to come to the US on her own, but it’s a challenge, since I have never wanted for anything. Mom saw to that.

Mom’s father was prone to anger & abuse, mostly toward her mother. She told me that her childhood was a lonely one, as she was an only child surrounded by adults. Mom said she confronted her father when she was 16, and told him he had to stop the abuse, and he did. She became fierce and protective.

She graduated high school at 16, college at 20, and went to work for Westinghouse as an engineer, toward the end of WW2. She was the only female on the staff, and she said her boss protected her from any harassment by her male colleagues, though she certainly could have defended herself. Westinghouse offered to pay for her Master’s degree in Engineering, but she declined, preferring to return home and teach high school mathematics.

My parents provided for us kids a life of structure & security. In fact, it was very rigid, with alarms going off at 5:30 am, dishes washed & dried before anyone left for school or work, and dinner at 5 pm every night. We dared not be late for dinner. I got straight A’s in school, and I think my brothers did, too. We would not have dared to bring home anything less.

As I grew into my preteen and teen age years, my relationship with Mom became one of conflict and disagreement. She was an unmovable force, unwilling to listen to or respect my budding thoughts and ideas. I became alienated and afraid, and after I left for college, I never lived at home again. I rebelled against everything she stood for, and that rebellion is still going on, in both conscious and unconscious ways and is a part of my ongoing work –to free myself of this reactivity and learn to just be myself.

I think my true grief began then, with the realization that I would never have an open and honest relationship with my mother. I have grieved this loss my entire life. It makes my loss of her even harder. There are no more chances to heal our relationship.

Mom & I did reach an accord, but the cost was high: We didn’t talk about deep things, making true intimacy impossible. We didn’t discuss religion or spirituality; politics was a minefield. She thought my child raising ideas were completely misguided, at best. All I could do was set limits, which she respected. So we had a relationship of love, at a distance. We could not accept each other’s truths. 

My attitude toward my mother began to shift when I became a parent myself, as happens for many of us. I began to really appreciate the stability she & Dad had provided. I also knew I didn’t want my children to grow up with the guilt, fear, and shame imposed on me by their strict religious beliefs. It has been one of my life’s challenges to unlearn these barriers to my inner truth and Self knowing.

Grief is a stealth bomber; it comes and goes, arriving when an idea or image reminds me of her, then receding for a time. I have kept her thick glasses, and they fill me with a sense of poignant sorrow, seeming to represent our shared human struggle to see. When grief arises, it often seems like it will overwhelm me with its intensity. The tears come in huge sobs, and I feel as though I’m being ripped in two. Other times, it is a deep sadness, sorrow driven by what we never had, and now, never will. 

Then, especially during meditation, I experience a sweet sense of peace and can feel the love of those who have passed before me, knowing they are “Out in that field beyond right doing and wrong doing” as Rumi calls it, where we can let go of needing to be right and instead, are one with the All That Is.

Faye Maguire, MA, LAC, is a People House private practitioner working with youth and adults, using a transpersonal approach to therapy. Counseling is her second career, after being a business owner for nearly 30 years. She enjoys working with people experiencing life transitions, grief and loss, depression, anxiety, trauma, addictions, relationship issues, and figuring out life’s direction, using a holistic approach. Please contact her at 720-331-2454 or at fayemaguire@gmail.com for more information.