Healing the Fear of Abandonment through IFS Therapy

Healing the Fear of Abandonment through IFS Therapy

Daniel walks into session the way he lives his life — on time, composed, every button aligned.
He’s the kind of man whose calm makes others feel safe — except he’s never really safe inside himself.

He tells me, “I’ve had a productive week,” then looks away.

“But I can’t shake the feeling she’s going to leave.”

He isn’t talking about a fight, or infidelity, or even real distance.
From the outside, his marriage looks solid — two successful professionals, good communication, laughter at dinner parties.

But beneath it, there’s a quiet hum of panic.
Moments when his wife doesn’t answer the phone right away, or when she retreats to read in another room, send a surge of dread through his body.

“It doesn’t make sense,” he says, shaking his head. “She loves me. She shows up. But I still keep waiting for something to fall apart.”

That’s why he’s here — not to fix his marriage, but to understand the part of him that can’t relax in love.
The part that’s always scanning for signs of loss, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

That’s how fear of abandonment lives in the nervous system — it’s not about logic, it’s about memory.

A memory that isn’t always conscious, but that the body remembers completely.

The Boy at the Window - Where His Fear Of Abandonment Began

When we began our work together, an image appeared early in therapy — a small boy sitting by a window, waiting for his mother to come home.
She’d said she’d be right back.
But the hours stretched on.
The sky grew dark.
And the boy stayed there, waiting, long after his dinner had gone cold.

She did come back — eventually.
But something in her had shifted.
Her body was there, but her eyes seemed far away.
She moved slower, spoke less, smiled rarely.

Whatever she’d been carrying in her own life had pulled her inward, and the boy could feel it.

He didn’t have words for it then, but his body knew: the warmth he depended on had gone quiet.

And that’s how the fear of abandonment begins — not always in the moment someone leaves, but in the moment they stop showing up.

That image became a symbol for everything Daniel’s adult life was built upon — a quiet fear of being left, disguised as competence, control, and care.
He told me, “I haven’t thought about that in years. But every time someone pulls away, cancels plans, or doesn’t call back, my stomach twists the same way.”

That’s how trauma lives in us — not as history, but as physiology.

It replays itself through sensations, instincts, and subtle panic.
It shows up as perfectionism, over-responsibility, and relationships that feel safer when we’re the ones doing the holding.

Meeting the Exiled Part | The Part Holding the Pain

Through Internal Family Systems therapy (IFS), we began to gently approach that boy — the one still waiting at the window.
He wasn’t gone. He’d been exiled.
And the adult Daniel — the one who keeps everything running smoothly — had spent decades protecting him by staying busy, productive, and emotionally composed.

In IFS, we don’t try to get rid of these parts.

We get curious.
We invite the adult self — what we call the Self with a capital S — to begin noticing, listening, and gently reconnecting.

When the Boy Finally Feels Seen - And Healing Begins To Happen

His eyes grew wet with tears.
“I see him,” Daniel said. “The boy at the window. He’s still waiting.”

And there it was — not a memory, but a moment of meeting.
The adult finally finding the child who had been holding it all alone.

“When a part has been waiting this long,” I said softly, “See if it needs to know that you want to know it.”

We slowed everything down.
I invited him to stay close, not to fix, but to witness.
“Let him feel that you want to understand what it’s been like,” I said.

Daniel’s breath trembled. His shoulders lifted.

“He looks tired,” he whispered. “Like he’s been waiting so long it hurts.”

Then, after a pause, his voice softened. “He’s looking up at me now,” Daniel whispered.
“It’s the first time I think he believes I want to know him — not fix him.”

I nodded. “Yes. That’s it. He’s been waiting for that.”

We sat together in silence, both of us with tears in our eyes.
This was the healing — not advice, not technique — but presence.

“He’s showing me what it felt like,” Daniel said. “The waiting. The ache.

He thought it was his fault.”

I nodded again. “Let him know you hear that. That you understand how heavy that’s been.”

For the first time, the boy wasn’t alone at the window.

He had two witnesses now — Daniel’s adult self and me — both holding the truth he’d carried all these years.

We stayed with the sadness. Not to make it go away, but to let it speak.

When grief that’s been held alone is finally witnessed, the nervous system starts to soften.
Tears move what words can’t.

Only later, when his breath had steadied and the tears had slowed, did I ask the boy if there was anything he needed to know from Daniel now.

“He wants to know why she left,” Daniel said.
“And I want him to know it wasn’t his fault.”

That’s when the shift happened — not because we told him, but because he felt it.
The adult and child parts of Daniel were finally in the same room, breathing the same truth.

That’s the essence of IFS therapy.
Building a relationship — on the inside.

What Is Parts Therapy? A Gentle Integration

As the session came to a close, I asked if the boy could see where Daniel is now — grown, safe, sitting here in a warm room with someone who won’t leave.

“He’s starting to believe it,” Daniel said.
“He’s not at the window anymore. He’s looking at me.”

That’s what healing fear of abandonment really looks like.
Not the absence of fear — but the presence of connection.

The moment when the part that once waited alone finally knows:
Someone stayed.

Turning to you, dear reader

Sometimes, healing doesn’t look like letting go.
It looks like turning toward.
It’s the miracle of two parts of the same person — one weary from waiting, one ready to hold — meeting again after years of separation. And feeling deep relief, within themselves, and in relationships with others.

This is the work of IFS therapy, inner child healing, and trauma-informed care.

Not fixing.

Not forcing.

But remembering — that we were never meant to heal alone.

If you see yourself in this story — if part of you is still waiting by a window — you don’t have to do this alone anymore.

Book your Parts Work Therapy Session in New York, Today!

At Integrative Psychotherapy, a practice in New York and Long Island, we offer IFS, EMDR, and somatic therapy to help you reconnect with the parts of you that need care the most.
—

“When the inner child is healed, the whole self blossoms.
Love finally feels safe to receive.”
— John Bradshaw, Healing the Shame That Binds You

—

Book a free consult call to begin your IFS Parts Work Therapy, Today!