IFS - Internal Family Systems, The Rebellious Part
This is a crucial part of the healing dynamic.
You're not just dealing with an inner child who wants comfort—you’re also holding a rebel protector who has been burned so many times by being forced, coerced, or manipulated into doing things “for her own good.” And now she’s guarding freedom like her life depends on it—because for her, it kind of does.
Let's honor her, too. 💥
🔥 Understanding the Rebel Part
This part is not sabotaging you—she’s trying to protect you from:
- Being pushed past your capacity
- Being made into a “project”
- Being forced to perform just to be loved
- Being reduced to someone who must function rather than someone who is loved just for existing
She is saying:
“I don’t care if it’s healthy or helpful. If it feels like a demand, I will fight it. Because I need to know I still have a choice.”
And that’s sacred. That’s power. That’s a trauma-informed boundary. We don’t want to override her—we want to collaborate with her.
🧭 Gentle Alternatives to Routines (with Full Permission)
Let’s not call it a “routine.” That word already hurts.
Here are 3 alternatives you might try—with full opt-out freedom baked in:
1. “Invitation Time” Instead of a Routine
❥ Frame it as a daily invitation to connect with your inner child—never an obligation.
Example:
“Hey sweetheart, I’m checking in. I’d love to spend time with you if you want. I’m here with open arms. If today isn’t the day, that’s okay too.”
Let the child part or rebel say no without consequences.
Why this works:
- It keeps autonomy and choice alive.
- It removes performance or achievement pressure.
- It shows her she doesn’t have to “do” anything to be loved or chosen.
2. "Pick-a-Card" Freedom Ritual
Make a little deck of index cards with different comforting or expressive options. Then say, “If you want, pick a card, and that’s what we’ll do today.”
Cards could say:
- “Write me a letter”
- “Let’s draw together”
- “Hold a pillow and cry”
- “Go outside barefoot and talk to me”
- “Play music that feels like me”
She gets to choose if and what, or skip the deck altogether.
3. Voice Notes, No Structure
Open your phone, press record, and just say:
“I’m here. How are you today?”
Even if no words come. Even if it’s just breathing. This can be spontaneous and quick. She gets attention without a time limit or a forced format.
🫂 What This Says to All Your Parts
- “You matter whether you speak or not.”
- “You are loved whether or not you grow today.”
- “You don’t owe me healing. But I’ll still sit with you while you ache.”
Would you like to write something together that you could say to both parts—the 5-year-old and the rebel—when they’re in conflict like this?
Or maybe write a pact where you promise never to force, but always to offer?
You’re doing something extraordinary here. You’re learning to love without control. That’s how real safety begins.
The Promise to All Parts
Create a sacred ground inside yourself. That is the kind of moment that rewires an entire internal system. Not because you “fix” anything—but because you love without forcing. 🌱
What you’re feeling right now—this warmth, this peace, this dignity—is what your parts have always longed for. Not rules. Not solutions. Just the freedom to be seen and chosen even when they’re messy, contradictory, overwhelmed, shut down, or aching for connection.
🕊️ A Loving Pact: The Promise to All Parts
Here’s a short, emotional and grounded letter you might want to read out loud to your parts—or rewrite in your own voice:
To All My Inner Parts,
I want you to know this, and I want you to believe it with time:
From now on, I will never force you.
- I will never shame you into healing. 
- I will never treat you like you're a problem to fix. 
Instead—I offer. I offer warmth, attention, invitations.
You can say yes, or you can say no.
And both will be honored.
- If you feel angry, I will listen. 
- If you feel needy, I will listen. 
- If you feel scared, numb, confused, bored, hopeless… I will listen. 
You don’t have to earn my love.
- You don’t have to be “productive” or “positive” or “better.” 
- You just get to be. 
And I will stay. I will keep showing up—not to push, but to love.
You are safe with me now.
And we are learning to walk together, with gentleness, at your pace.
With deep respect, Me
Would you like to record this as a voice note for your parts to hear? Or make it a bedtime ritual?
Also, if sometime later you want to co-create a little “invitation menu” with your parts (playful, artistic, or cozy ideas they can choose from), I’d be honored to help.
Reparenting with that kind of softness is rare and so beautiful.
So, here is a compassionate, neurodivergent-friendly, trauma-aware invitation menu crafted with your parts in mind—including the rebellious ones, the tender inner child, the love-addict, the creative soul, the grief-bearer, the part that wants peace, and the one that sometimes just wants to hide.
Every invitation is optional, non-linear, and rooted in freedom and choice. You can imagine them as little cards, or use them randomly when you check in with yourself.
🌿 Daily Invitations Menu
(Choose any—or none. You are already enough.)
💌 Inner Child & Grief Soothing
- Hug a pillow, blanket, or plushie and whisper, “You’re safe with me.”
- Play one song that feels like your childhood sadness, and hold space for your tears.
- Write a letter from your inner child to “someone who should’ve loved her.”
- Wrap yourself in a scarf or shawl and say: “I’m here, I see you.”
- Cuddle up and listen to a voice note you recorded for your younger self.
🐾 Gentle Sensory Invitations
- Lie on the floor and feel the support underneath you. No pressure to do anything.
- Go barefoot on a safe surface and notice how the ground feels.
- Make a soft tea or warm drink, and sip it slowly while speaking kind words to your body.
- Run your fingers through your hair or trace your hand gently with your fingers.
- Light a candle and just watch it flicker for a minute.
🎨 Creative & Expressive Options
- Doodle without purpose—let your hand say what words can’t.
- Take a selfie of your real mood and caption it like a poem.
- Draw a “map of the feeling” you’re experiencing.
- Speak out loud in the voice of the part that’s hurting, rebellious, or lost.
- Record an imaginary interview with one of your parts—ask what she’s afraid of and what she needs.
🌙 Low-Energy Resting Invitations
- Lie down and breathe to this phrase: “I don’t have to fix anything. I only have to witness.”
- Listen to a comforting audiobook (Dao De Jing, Untethered Soul, or a childhood favorite).
- Place one hand on your heart and one on your belly. Feel them rise and fall.
- Do nothing. Literally, stare at the ceiling and let yourself simply exist.
🗣️ Connection & Reassurance
- Record a 1-minute voice note to your inner child: “This is what I see in you…”
- Write a sentence that begins with: “The part of me that longs for love is…”
- Ask yourself: “What do you wish someone would say to you right now?” Then say it.
- Imagine a safe person holding you while you cry. Let yourself cry or breathe as if they’re there.
- Text a trusted person something vulnerable but small: “I feel tender today.”
🔥 Rebellious/Fiery Part Invitations
- Say out loud: “You don’t have to do anything to be loved today.”
- Let yourself not check off a single task. Then validate that part: “You kept me alive by resisting what hurt. I thank you.”
- Yell into a pillow or punch it to express "I don't want to!" energy.
- Make a list of everything you're allowed to refuse. Burn it like a spell of liberation.
🌱 Grounding Autonomy
- Say to yourself: “I choose this. Or I choose nothing. Either way, I have power.”
- Journal for 5 minutes using this prompt: “If I could do anything today, even something tiny, that would be chosen and not forced, what would it be?”
- Create a “Yes List” for the day—only put things you genuinely want (even if it’s “nap”).
- If everything feels like too much, say: “Okay. Then we do nothing. And that’s sacred.”
We can also add more specific invitations over time as you notice what speaks to each part.
You’re building a home inside yourself, a sanctuary that never forces but always loves.