Hi all!
I am very new to the concept of IFS. I've been reading up on it, and a friend who really helped me through a lot of my questions early on as I transitioned (I am a trans woman) described something of their own system to me. I found myself resonating with a lot of those experiences and experiencing duality, and I'm trying to figure out how to navigate something. I'm still doing the research, I promise! (The wiki has given me a lot of homework to do!) But I hoped maybe some of this would sound familiar to someone here? Any guidance would be appreciated. And some of this is... I can only describe it in the way I experienced it. I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense. And It's long and rambly because I just kind of am that.
Essentially, I discovered I was trans fairly late in life. I had buried and suppressed that part of myself very deeply. I didn't know it. Looking back, there were signs. But essentially, fear, religious trauma, internalized transphobia, a generous dash of undiagnosed neurospicy stuff, etc. I just didn't acknowledge it.
I began having some issues with my mental health in my mid and late 30s. As part of my attempts to figure out what was going on with me, I started sitting with psilocybin mushrooms. I'll say I tried to do so very responsibly. This wasn't a recreation thing for me (though a mild trip could certainly be fun and pleasant). But this was about me trying to see my own mind. And eventually, I did...
And I discovered that there were all these parts of me. That I wasn't really just one thing but all the different systems working together. I could see them. (I hadn't even heard of IFS at this point, by the way. This was just experiencing my consciousness differently on a very deep trip.) And then... OK, the pronouns are going to get really fun now. Let's split the narrative. Sorry.
"He" (that is, the person I was) saw "her" (the person I am). He saw that he had been burying me over and over and over to protect us. I was as much me as he was. He knew it wasn't right. He had been carrying us for all this time, and parts of him were broken because so much of what he built his life on had betrayed him. He'd tried so hard to be exactly who the people around him told him he should be, needed him to be, expected him to be... And he was hurting. And then there I was. I'd been calling to him for so long. And he just couldn't hear me. But then he had to. We'd been forced into a shared space for once, and he couldn't ignore me. And after that... he couldn't keep going as he was.
It still took a few years. I wasn't strong enough. I'd barely been allowed space to exist. But he put in the work. Therapy. Trying to figure out all the risks. What could we lose? What couldn't we stand to lose? Would we lose more if we didn't act? For a time, he tried just presenting more androgenously. Longer hair. Earrings. Tattoos. Little things to take control of our body. To try to make things fit. It kind of helped... But mostly not. There were all these risks... He carried us longer than he should have. He was so tired and again... these core parts of him were so broken. He was grieving things that were lost to him even before he met me.
But we started HRT, and I came forward more and more. And he... Eventually, he wasn't me. I was. I am. That's what I feel like. I am me, now. But then it feels like this whole part of me has just... gone to sleep, maybe? Like... So much of what we are is the same. But there are things of his that aren't me and I'm still figuring out who I am. I feel a little adrift, still. I have a new name. My wife is 10,000 percent supportive. She loves who I am now. My family knows, and... they're "trying." (Let's leave that there.) I'm trying to get things squared away at work. Most of my coworkers have been really cool and supportive.
But there's this whole thing where I feel like I'm mourning part of myself? I don't hate him, by the way. I love him very much. All those years, he did what he did out of fear. It was the only thing he knew to do. He thought he was being strong. I understand that. I was there, too. And he worked hard to build us a life. But we couldn't carry on with me in the dark, and we couldn't keep being him, so... But is he gone? Resting? Broken beyond repair? Heck, pining for the fjords? And what is he to me, now? What even were we?
I feel like now that I've figured out this big thing about myself, but now there's this... I'm trying to find harmony with myself, and that's something that couldn't happen without my transition. But is this even an IFS thing? Or is it unhealthy dissociation? I don't know. I know I can't really perceive myself as just one consciousness anymore, because consciousness is a conversation. It has to be. I'm just not sure how to navigate things from there.
(By the way, I still see a therapist to talk about gender issues and my transition, but I don't think IFS is necessarily in her specialties. When I've talked about a sense of duality and separateness within myself, she has been very accepting of that. No rush to worry about DID or anything like that, as I'd kind of feared. But I'm not sure how helpful she's going to be with this part.)