Integration is not a one-and-done moment—it’s a layered, spiraling process that reveals more of your true self as you move through it. It’s not about “fixing” anything—it’s about reclaiming everything.
The Irritation that Sparked the Search
There was a time when I was constantly irritated. Everything bothered me—conversations, interruptions, requests for my attention. It all felt like it was taking something from me. Energy. Focus. Peace. It was like the world around me kept making withdrawals I couldn’t afford.
But what I didn’t realize at the time was that the real deficit wasn’t outside of me—it was within. I wasn’t giving that energy to myself.
And not just surface-level attention. I mean deep, inner attention. The kind of attention that only I could give to the parts of me that were hurt, abandoned, alone, or scared. Not the version of me handling the day-to-day. That part was functional and capable. But the ones buried underneath her strength? They were starving for my attention.
It wasn’t until I began meeting those parts directly that I began to feel more calm and relaxed mentally.
The Phases of Integration (as I personally experienced them)
What I now recognize is that integration doesn’t happen all at once. It’s a slow, spiral-like process that moves through layers. For me, it often follows a rhythm. These are the phases I’ve observed in myself—and in clients, too:
1. Awareness
Sometimes, it starts subtly—a tightening in your chest, a wave of restlessness, a sense that something just isn’t sitting right. Other times, it hits like a storm: you overreact to something small, or find yourself unusually drained after a conversation. Awareness isn’t always graceful. In fact, it often arrives through disruption. But that disruption is intelligent. It’s not here to punish you—it’s here to wake you. Something within is surfacing, not to sabotage your peace, but to restore it—if you’re willing to listen.
2. Resistance
This phase is often automatic. It feels like trying to push the feeling away, rationalize it, ignore it, or distract myself with work, scrolling, food, or busyness. Resistance is simply protection. It’s the part of me that fears what I’ll find if I look deeper. Sometimes, it’s guarding a belief that I won’t be able to handle what comes up. Other times, it’s an old pattern rooted in survival: if I don’t feel it, I don’t have to change.
This phase can last minutes or months. And ironically, the more self-aware I become, the more sophisticated my resistance can get. It can sound like logic, like maturity, even like empowerment—but underneath it, there’s still fear. And fear always has something it’s trying to preserve.
3. Willingness + Negotiation
Eventually, something shifts. It might be subtle like a sigh, a quiet moment of honesty, or an inner whisper that says, “I can’t take this anymore.”, and a crack of willingness begins to open.
I started to see that the cost of resistance such as anxiety, disconnection, emotional fatigue which was greater than the fear of what I might uncover. And so, a gentle inner negotiation begins.
I don’t force myself to dive in, I simply invite myself to stay curious. I might say, “Okay, let’s just feel this for a moment. Let’s see what this is about.” This phase is tender, and it requires self-trust that says “I’ll stay with you, no matter what we find.”
4. Connection with the Part
Here’s where the real shift begins. I connect directly with the part of me that holds the emotion—not as a problem to solve, but as a presence to honor. I don’t analyze, I listen. I get curious about her tone, her posture, her age, her unmet need. I sit with her like I would a child who’s been waiting too long to be seen.
Sometimes she’s angry, sometimes she’s terrified, sometimes she just needs to know I won’t abandon her like I have in the past. I speak gently. I let her cry if she needs to. I offer comfort, warmth, and presence to remind her she belongs and she’s more than enough just as she is. This is known as re-parenting, and it’s a repair. This is where separation begins to dissolve, and integration takes root.
5. Release + Realignment
Once that part feels seen, heard, and acknowledged, something deep inside begins to unwind. There’s a softening—my system lets go of the grip it’s been holding onto. I feel lighter, clearer, more anchored. Sometimes there are tears. Sometimes it’s just a deep exhale I didn’t know I was holding. The outer world hasn’t changed—but the way I orient to it has. The noise quiets. My reactions lose their edge. I feel more together—not because everything is perfect, but because I’m no longer fragmented inside.
6. Embodiment
This is the phase where the shift becomes reality. The change isn’t just emotional—it’s physical, neurological, and behavioral. I carry myself differently. People treat me differently. My patience deepens. My choices become more aligned. There’s no need to “try” to be different—I just am.
Progress Isn’t Linear—But It’s Always Forward
Not every healing journey feels the same. Some awaken new self-respect. Others deepen self-love, some unlock grief that’s been held for decades, while others bring forward rage, or hopelessness, or powerlessness.
This last healing journey for me? It was a deep one.
It stirred rage I didn’t even realize was still there. It touched a three-decade wound I had armored myself around. And once I touched it—really touched it—I crashed. My energy dropped. I was tired for over a week. But it wasn’t burnout—it was relief and repair. I had finally stopped holding up an internal battle that had exhausted me for most of my life.
My nervous system was coming out of the fight, and for the first time, I didn’t rush to get back up. I let myself rest. I gave myself the same attention I had once needed but never received. And my system healed faster because of it.
How to Know Where You Are (and Why You’ll Be Back)
Integration is not a straight line—it’s a spiraling cycle. Each time you move through it, you gain more clarity, strength, and embodiment. And yes, the phases often repeat. But they don’t repeat aimlessly—they repeat with purpose. Each cycle brings you closer to your true self.
Here’s how to recognize where you are in the spiral:
- Constant irritation or emotional sensitivity?
You may be back in the awareness phase. A new part is surfacing, or an old one is ready to be met more fully. - Feeling avoidant, exhausted, or over-capacitated?
That’s likely resistance, and that’s okay. This phase often protects us while we gather the strength to go deeper. - Feeling curious, open, or ready to explore?
Welcome to willingness + negotiation. This is where self-trust begins to rebuild. - Feeling a wave of emotion, a vivid memory, or body sensations?
You’re connecting with a part. Stay with it. Let it speak. Let it be heard. - Experiencing a lightness, insight, or sudden relief?
This is the release. The part has been witnessed and integrated. - Noticing effortless behavior changes, new boundaries, or emotional shifts?
You’re in embodiment. This is what alignment feels like.
And then—eventually—something new will surface. And the spiral begins again. But this time, you’re more equipped. You’re stronger. You know the way home.
Coming Together, One Trigger at a Time
Each time I meet a part of me with compassion, I reclaim something that was once lost, buried, or exiled. I don’t just soothe the pain—I reintegrate the wisdom it’s been carrying. These aren’t broken pieces—I see now they’re sacred fragments, each holding a story, a need, a truth I wasn’t ready to hold before. And as I welcome them back, I become more whole. More myself.
This isn’t the kind of self-love packaged in curated quotes or filtered selfies. It’s not performative—it’s initiatory. It’s gritty. Tender. Unforgiving in its honesty. And yet, profoundly healing. It’s the kind of love that rebuilds you from the inside out—cell by cell, belief by belief, breath by breath.
The beauty of this path is that it doesn’t end. It keeps deepening. Every trigger, every upset, every hard moment becomes an invitation. Not to bypass, but to return. Each one is a doorway. And on the other side of that doorway isn’t just healing—it’s more of you. More capacity. More truth. More freedom, ease and alignment.
Integration Is a Homecoming
If I’ve learned anything, it’s this: healing isn’t a finish line. It’s not a place you arrive once you’ve done enough work, felt enough feelings, or checked off enough spiritual boxes. Healing is the journey—it’s the lived experience of returning to yourself, one layer, one truth, one reclaimed part at a time.
You are not something to be fixed. You are someone to be remembered.
Integration isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about becoming fully who you’ve always been—beneath the conditioning, the coping, the forgetting. The real you isn’t far away. She’s already here, just waiting for you to turn inward with presence, patience, and love.
You don’t need to hustle your way into wholeness. You don’t need to prove your readiness to evolve. You are already worthy of your own attention. You are already enough.
All that’s left is to meet the parts of you still waiting—to be seen, to be held, to be welcomed home.
And if you’re ready to do that work in a space where you’re deeply seen, skillfully guided, and held to your highest truth—let’s talk.
This is the work I do with high-performing leaders and visionaries who are ready to return to themselves.If your system is ready to live from alignment and truth—book a private Discovery Call.