Recently, The Cut published an article about IFS Therapy, calling it “the therapy that can break you.” It described harrowing accounts of psychological abuse at a center (now closed) that claimed to use IFS as a treatment modality.
What a terrifying story. What engaging clickbait.
I feel compelled to write this response to the article to assuage the fear that the article might stir up. I also feel compelled because the article presents an opportunity to address the power dynamics that always exist in a therapy or coaching office. As someone trained in IFS and also an IFS client myself – frankly, as a fellow human – I condemn psychological abuse of any kind. Full stop.
The examples shared in the article are the opposite of how practitioners are trained to use IFS. The story is not a representative example— it’s an extreme outlier erroneously generalized to represent all of IFS theory and techniques. It erases the data points of many, many professionals who practice IFS safely and clients who have found healing through it, leaving a skewed representation of IFS therapy. In other words, reading this account and deciding based on it that IFS is inherently unsafe would be like hearing of a surgeon committing malpractice and determining that all surgery is harmful. Or like hearing about an abusive therapist who claims to use CBT and determining that CBT itself (and not the abusive practitioner of it) can break you.
In contrast to what the article portrayed, many of the practitioners I know who use IFS love it specifically because it is highly consent-based. What this means is that we don’t get to know any part of you until we know that it’s safe to do so. We never bypass a fear or feeling of concern that you have, and we certainly do not go around digging for painful experiences or repressed memories. In my own training at IFSCA, I was taught to listen for “even the whisper of a no” inside of a client.
If you walked into an IFS coach’s office with skepticism or concerns about the method (such as those voiced in the article), the first thing a well-trained practitioner would do is give space to understand those concerns; we would allow the parts of your skepticism or worry a chance to really take the floor and we would pay genuine respect to your internal concerns or fears about IFS. You can and should be an informed consumer of mental health treatment, and it is right to ask questions about the methods your coach has been trained in.
From my heart, I want to empower you as a client of an IFS coach or therapist— or any coach or therapist— to voice concerns, express doubts, and honor your own internal misgivings. Don’t seek to please your practitioner. Don’t believe the lie that the therapist is more of an expert on you than you are. Don’t value their opinion more highly than your own. If your practitioner is really using IFS in accordance with how it is taught, they will see your “no” as important information worthy of exploring. They will also recognize the part of you that does not give consent as worthy of respect. If your therapist is not able to hear and address the concerns, it is a sign to find someone else.
When I was new to IFS as a client myself, I was very nervous to be working with “parts.” I had never heard of IFS before, and it didn’t fit the preconcieved notions I had of therapy. I voiced my fear that the therapist was trying to find a repressed memory by helping me get to know my “parts,” and my therapist addressed this concern. He explained the model to me, and did not proceed with the process until I felt comfortable. This respect for internal boundaries is what makes IFS powerful.
To the concern that IFS is fragmenting people into parts, I would say that it is actually helping people de-fragment. All of us have spaces inside our minds or emotions that we don’t love to feel, deal with, or experience– places inside of us with a big “don’t go there” sign on them. We don’t need IFS to tell us that because we experience it regularly and naturally on our own. Sometimes these experiences still impact our reactions, feelings, and nervous systems. This is even more the case when we avoid them or refuse to acknowledge them. When we use a modality like IFS to shine a healing light on what’s going on inside of us, we don’t fragment ourselves; we put ourselves back together.
If you’d like to read another practice’s response to The Cut, here’s a link to another recent log post. I’m sure in the coming weeks we’ll see others, including from IFSCA and other IFS training organizations. Safe and effective treatment is your right as a client. You deserve to find a highly-qualified practitioner that you trust. I encourage you to do your own research on IFS, and to reach out to me if you’d like to learn more about how IFS can help you.
This post was written by Crissa Stephens, PhD, an experienced IFS coach and independent practitioner at Capital Crescent Collective in Bethesda, MD.
Reference: Corbett, R. (2025, October 30). The therapy that can break you: Internal Family Systems is a widely popular trauma treatment. Some patients say it’s destroyed their lives. The Cut. https://www.thecut.com/article/truth-about-ifs-therapy-internal-family-systems-trauma-treatment.html