Embracing All Our Parts – Listening Without Letting Them Lead
Welcome back, Lovely Souls!
I’m not sure if you’ve ever thought that a coach, therapist, or guide is somehow “done” their journey… but just in case that’s ever crossed your mind, let me assure you: every single one of us is still walking our path. In fact, I believe one of the best things a coach can do is to stay open—to keep learning, keep softening, and keep returning to themselves over and over again.
The more I learn, the more I’m invited to revisit old patterns or beliefs I thought I’d already released. Sometimes, it feels like I’ve just finished tending to one tender layer…and then bam, here comes another.
I say this not to discourage you, but to remind you that you’re not alone. Growth can be deeply beautiful—and deeply uncomfortable. It’s both expansive and disorienting. Uplifting and exhausting. It makes room for joy, but also stirs up the parts of us that aren’t sure it’s safe to let go.
If you're on your own journey, maybe you've noticed it too. Something triggers you. You feel defensive. And as you're trying to make sense of it, you notice a part of you wanting to retreat to an old way of being.
For me, that might be a younger part—one who learned to ease tension by “fixing” things.
If I just do the thing they want, maybe everything will feel better.
Then, not far behind, I often sense a more defiant part—maybe teenage me—who says:
Screw this. I’m not doing it your way. In fact, I’m going to do the very thing you won’t like-just to burn it all down.
It’s not that I want to hurt the other person—it’s more like some part of me is trying to regain control. And if it’s going to fall apart, at least I get to decide how. Even if I don’t realize that’s what’s happening in the moment.
But now, I also notice another part: the one who observes.
The part who can witness both the scared child and the angry teen without shaming them or trying to shut them down.
She gives them a seat in the car—but she doesn’t let them take the wheel.
She doesn’t banish those younger parts. She listens. She stays close. And she leads.
Last week, I felt those younger parts rise loudly within me. The whole thing was uncomfortable—so deeply uncomfortable.
Each part was grasping for certainty—craving something predictable to hold onto, even if the outcome wasn’t what I actually wanted.
But the steady part of me—the one I’ve been learning to tune into more—didn’t rush to give them that certainty. She let them feel what they were feeling, and then reminded them that discomfort doesn’t always signal danger. That uncertainty isn’t the same as being unsafe.
This part of me stays present in the unknown.
And in doing so, she keeps proving—choice by choice—that I can be trusted to show up for myself.
That trust? It’s being built every day.
In a new and deeper way.
In each of these seasons of life.
And as it grows, those protective parts start to soften. They don’t need to grip so tightly. They start to believe they don’t have to carry it all on their own.
This process can feel awkward at first. But there’s a quiet beauty that emerges when we recognize our parts, not as problems to fix, but as protectors doing the best they can.
They are not the whole of who we are. But they are part of our wholeness, and they’re worthy of being seen, heard, and held with compassion.
If you’re navigating conflicting emotions, I invite you to explore one or two of these:
What part of me is leading right now?
What is this part trying to protect me from?
What does my aligned self want me to remember?
Can I allow both discomfort and self-trust to exist in this moment?
What choice helps me build trust with myself—even if it's a small one?
Growth isn’t about silencing your parts.
It’s about listening, honouring their stories—and then choosing from the grounded truth of who you are underneath the fear, anger, and reactivity.
Each time you pause, stay present, and choose differently, you build a bridge—
from fear to trust,
from reactivity to steadiness,
from the parts that once needed to take control
to the part of you that knows how to lead with love.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina
