Therapy After Divorce for Professional Women

Therapy After Divorce for Professional Women

RELATIONSHIPS & MARRIAGE • April 6, 2026

LAST UPDATED: APRIL 2026

Why Divorce Hits Differently for Driven Women

It’s 6:47 a.m. on a Tuesday. Aisha is standing at the kitchen counter in her downtown apartment — coffee in hand, laptop open, the city just beginning to exhale into morning light. She’s presenting to a board of directors in three hours. She knows her slides cold, she’s prepared her talking points, she’s ready. And yet there’s a folder in her email inbox labeled “Legal — Settlement” that she hasn’t opened in four days, because opening it means acknowledging that the life she thought she was building is, in fact, ending. She looks composed. She is also coming apart.

This is the particular ache of divorce for driven women: the fracture between the polished exterior your career demands and the interior landscape that’s quietly becoming unrecognizable. You’ve spent years building systems, managing teams, hitting targets — and none of that competence touches the grief that greets you at 2 a.m. when the apartment is quiet and you’re alone with the reality of what’s happening.

Over time, this kind of sustained stress can produce symptoms remarkably similar to complex PTSD — not from a single event, but from the cumulative weight of years spent in a system that treats human limits as defects.

Divorce is hard for everyone, but for driven professional women, it often lands with an intensity that’s both complex and uniquely painful. When you’ve built a life around ambition, competence, and control, divorce can feel like a profound disruption — not just to your personal life but to your very sense of identity. This isn’t about being strong or weak; it’s about how deeply intertwined your self-worth is with your ability to deliver results and maintain a certain image of success.

Driven women tend to invest immense energy into maintaining multiple roles simultaneously — leader, provider, partner, parent, and friend — and divorce forces a sudden recalibration of all of them. The collision of professional demands with the emotional upheaval of ending a marriage creates a pressure cooker effect. You might find yourself excelling at work yet feeling completely hollow inside, or alternatively, overwhelmed by emotional chaos and unable to summon your usual drive.

The cultural narrative around women in leadership positions doesn’t help. You’re expected to “bounce back” quickly, demonstrate resilience, and keep everything under control. But divorce strips away the safety net of partnership and often triggers a cascade of self-doubt, shame, and grief that can feel isolating. The pressure to “have it together” can silence your need for support and make it harder to process what’s happening.

Research on the neuroscience of loss helps explain why this is so physiologically disorienting. Daniel Siegel, MD, clinical professor of psychiatry at UCLA and author of Mindsight, describes how the brain’s attachment systems — the same circuits that regulate felt safety and social bonding — become dysregulated when a primary relationship ends. It’s not metaphor; it’s neurological reality. The brain registers the loss of a long-term partner in ways that overlap with other forms of acute stress and grief, flooding the prefrontal cortex and impairing the very executive function you rely on most at work.

Beyond the immediate emotional toll, divorce often challenges your financial and logistical frameworks as well. For many driven women, the financial impact is a shock — a stark contrast to years of professional success and independence. The reality of potentially shifting lifestyles, co-parenting negotiations, or legal battles adds layers of stress that aren’t just practical — they’re deeply existential.

All of this means therapy after divorce for driven women isn’t just about coping with loss. It’s about reclaiming a fractured sense of self, navigating complex emotions without sacrificing ambition, and learning to trust your own capacity to rebuild. The emotional landscape is vast and nuanced, requiring a therapeutic approach that respects your drive while addressing the vulnerability beneath it.

For many driven women, this dynamic echoes what clinicians call betrayal trauma — the specific injury that occurs when the person or institution you depend on is also the source of your harm.

What Is Relational Trauma — And How Does Divorce Activate It?

Divorce isn’t just a legal or emotional event; it’s a profound relational rupture. For many professional women, divorce reactivates relational trauma — deep wounds formed through early attachment injuries, betrayals, or repeated relational disappointments. When trust is broken in a marriage, it echoes through your nervous system in ways that can feel overwhelming and destabilizing.

Relational trauma isn’t always obvious. It can manifest as persistent anxiety, difficulty regulating emotions, hypervigilance to rejection, or patterns of self-sabotage in relationships. After divorce, these symptoms often intensify because the trauma is no longer buried beneath the surface — it’s front and center. The loss of a partner can trigger old fears of abandonment or unworthiness, making it feel impossible to trust again.

Bessel van der Kolk, MD, psychiatrist and trauma researcher and author of The Body Keeps the Score, describes how trauma is held not just cognitively but somatically — in the body’s posture, breath patterns, and visceral responses. When a marriage ends, especially one that involved betrayal, chronic emotional neglect, or power imbalances, the body keeps score of that too. You might notice tension in your chest that doesn’t shift after a run. A startle response that fires up when you hear a particular ringtone. A creeping sense of dread that has no clear cognitive origin but shows up every Sunday evening.

In therapy, understanding how relational trauma operates is crucial. Divorce isn’t just the end of a contract; it’s often the shattering of a primary attachment bond. This can lead to a cascade of physiological and emotional responses: your brain’s alarm systems go into overdrive, your ability to think clearly diminishes, and your body holds tension that you might not even be aware of. These are not signs of weakness — they’re survival mechanisms kicking in.

In my clinical work with clients navigating divorce, I see how frequently these somatic and emotional responses catch driven women completely off guard. They’ve managed spreadsheets, scaled companies, held their families together through impossible seasons — and now they’re finding themselves unable to eat a meal without their stomach clenching, or lying awake at 3 a.m. running through conversations that happened years ago. That’s not a character flaw. That’s a nervous system doing what nervous systems do when a primary attachment is lost.

Therapeutically, addressing relational trauma means more than talking through feelings. It requires a careful, attuned process that helps regulate the nervous system, rebuild safety internally, and gradually restore trust in yourself and others. This is especially important for driven women who are used to problem-solving on their own — relational trauma demands a relational approach to healing.

How Divorce Therapy Is Different From Couples Therapy

It’s important to recognize that therapy after divorce serves a fundamentally different purpose than couples therapy. While couples therapy centers around repairing or improving the relationship between two people, divorce therapy focuses squarely on your individual healing and growth post-separation. This shift in focus changes everything about the therapeutic process.

Couples therapy often involves navigating interpersonal dynamics, improving communication, and negotiating shared goals. Divorce therapy, by contrast, is about helping you process the end of that relationship, understand what it means for your identity and future, and develop strategies to move forward with resilience. It’s an inward journey, not a partnership negotiation.

Another key difference is the emotional landscape. Couples therapy can be fraught with tension, conflict, and the push-pull of trying to salvage what’s broken. Divorce therapy is less about managing conflict with another person and more about managing your internal emotional experience — grief, anger, relief, confusion, and everything in between. Relief is worth naming here, because many women feel guilty for feeling it, and that guilt often goes unspoken. Part of what divorce therapy makes room for is the full, messy, sometimes contradictory emotional truth of your experience — including the parts that don’t look “acceptable.”

Because you’re working solo in divorce therapy, the focus often includes rebuilding your sense of autonomy and agency. You might explore how your patterns in relationships have contributed to your experience, but the goal isn’t to “fix” the relationship — it’s to fix your relationship with yourself. This involves learning to hold your own complexity and contradictions without judgment.

Richard Schwartz, PhD, founder of Internal Family Systems therapy, describes how we each contain a constellation of internal “parts” — some driven by protection, some by grief, some by ambition, some by shame. Divorce has a way of activating all of them simultaneously. You might have one part that’s furious and wants to win the legal battle, and another that’s devastated and still wonders if this was a mistake, and a third that’s flooded with relief and doesn’t know what to do with it. Divorce therapy creates the space to hear all of those parts without being hijacked by any one of them.

Finally, divorce therapy is highly tailored to your unique post-divorce challenges — whether that’s co-parenting, dating again, financial restructuring, or redefining your social life. It’s a space to develop skills and insights that are directly relevant to this transitional phase, not a general relationship fix.

Both/And: Grieving the Marriage AND Grieving the Self You Built Around It

When professional women walk into therapy after divorce, the grief they carry is rarely just about the end of a relationship. It’s also about mourning the self they built around that marriage. This is a both/and situation — you’re grieving the loss of a partner and the shared life you imagined, but you’re also grieving the version of yourself that existed within that context. The marriage shaped many parts of your identity: your day-to-day routines, your social networks, your financial landscape, even your sense of competence and worth. When that foundation shifts, it shakes the core of who you believe you are.

It’s tempting to focus solely on the relationship itself — what went wrong, who said what, and what could have been different. But the emotional work runs deeper. You might find yourself asking, “Who am I without this marriage? What parts of myself did I lose or leave behind? What pieces do I want to reclaim or reinvent?”

Consider Ana: 41, a senior VP at a fintech firm, sitting in her car in the parking garage of her office building at 7:15 p.m. on a Wednesday. She’s been in the car for twenty minutes. Inside her apartment — her apartment now, no longer theirs — there are boxes she can’t bring herself to unpack, because unpacking means settling into a life she didn’t choose. She tells me in session that she can run a department of sixty people without breaking a sweat, but she can’t figure out how to buy a couch. That’s not incompetence; that’s grief. Every decision that used to be “ours” is now only hers, and that aloneness has a weight she wasn’t expecting.

This mourning process is complex because it’s layered. There’s the tangible loss of a spouse, but there’s also the intangible loss of a shared narrative and the self-image tightly wrapped up in that union. You may have seen yourself as a “partner,” “wife,” or “co-builder” of a life, and now you’re navigating unfamiliar territory as a “solo architect.” This requires recalibrating your identity in ways that feel both exciting and destabilizing.

In my clinical work with clients at this particular crossroads, I’ve noticed that the women who struggle most aren’t those who loved their partners most — they’re often the women who most quietly disappeared into the relationship. The ones who steadily gave up weekends, friendships, opinions, and eventually, a clear sense of what they actually wanted — all in service of keeping the partnership functional. When the marriage ends, they surface to find that along with the marriage, they also lost track of themselves.

In therapy, I help you honor both forms of grief. It’s not about choosing one over the other, but rather holding them both as valid and intertwined. We focus on naming what you’ve lost, understanding how it shaped your current sense of self, and exploring how you want to move forward. This dual focus creates space for you to grieve fully and to begin constructing a self that’s authentically yours — no longer tethered to the marriage but enriched by the lessons and growth it brought.

Grieving the self you built around your marriage means facing some uncomfortable truths about how your identity was linked to the relationship. It may also bring up feelings of guilt, shame, or confusion about who you are now. These feelings aren’t weaknesses; they’re signals that you’re in a profound process of transformation. Therapy is where you can safely confront these feelings, learn to integrate them, and ultimately emerge with a stronger, clearer sense of self.

The Systemic Lens: Why Ambitious Women’s Divorce Gets Pathologized

There’s a cultural script that paints ambitious women’s divorces in a problematic light, and it’s deeply systemic. When a driven woman goes through a divorce, her experience is often filtered through lenses that pathologize her rather than understand her reality. The societal expectation is that women should be caretakers of family stability, emotionally resilient, and self-sacrificing. When a woman who’s used to controlling her professional life faces a loss in her personal life, especially through divorce, it unsettles these expectations — and the response can be judgment, misunderstanding, or outright dismissal.

In therapy, I see this systemic misunderstanding show up in two main ways. First, there’s the internalized pressure ambitious women carry to “fix” themselves quickly. The message is clear: you’re supposed to be strong, composed, and bouncing back faster than anyone else because you have a driven, successful career. This leaves little room for the messy, nonlinear process of grief and identity reformation that divorce demands. It’s as if struggling emotionally is a personal failure rather than a human response.

Second, there’s the external pathologizing from others — friends, family, even therapists — who might unconsciously frame a woman’s divorce as a symptom of emotional instability or poor decision-making. This framing ignores the complex systemic forces at play: the ways gender roles, power dynamics, and career pressures intersect to create a unique set of challenges. It also erases the legitimate grief and upheaval that come with dismantling a life you built, no matter how successful you are professionally.

Gabor Maté, MD, physician and trauma specialist and author of The Myth of Normal, argues that emotional suppression — the very coping mechanism that helped many driven women succeed professionally — becomes a liability when the body reaches its threshold. For women who’ve been holding it together for years inside marriages that were quietly depleting them, divorce often triggers the release of emotions they didn’t even know they were storing. The grief isn’t just about this ending; it’s about everything that went unexpressed inside it.

Meet Michelle: 38, a litigation attorney who, on paper, has every reason to be fine. Good income, sharp mind, strong support network, two kids she adores. And yet she describes walking into a grocery store three weeks after separating and standing in the cereal aisle for nine minutes, unable to choose. Not because she’s incapable — she makes six-figure decisions before lunch. But because no one told her that grief hits you in the mundane moments. No one warned her that “choosing cereal” would feel like the most overwhelming task in the world when your entire emotional system is overloaded. In our work together, Michelle didn’t need someone to tell her she was resilient. She needed someone to validate that this was actually as hard as it felt — and then help her build tools to move through it.

This systemic lens is why therapy for ambitious women post-divorce must move beyond individual pathology and situate the experience within broader social and cultural contexts. It’s not about finding flaws or fixing deficits; it’s about understanding the external pressures and internal conflicts that shape your experience. When therapy acknowledges these forces, it validates your feelings and choices instead of pathologizing them. It also opens the door to strategies that address the whole picture — your career, your personal identity, and the social systems that impact both.

Recognizing this systemic dynamic allows us to dismantle shame and replace it with self-compassion and clarity. It helps you see that your experience isn’t a sign of weakness or failure but a complex navigation through a system that often misunderstands women like you. This perspective creates a foundation for therapy that’s not about fixing what’s “wrong” but about supporting what’s real and true for you.

What Does Therapy After Divorce Actually Look Like? (Annie’s Approach)

Therapy after divorce isn’t a one-size-fits-all formula, especially for professional women who are used to being in control and solving problems efficiently. My approach is clinical but deeply personalized, aiming to meet you where you are emotionally while honoring the intellectual rigor you bring. We work together to untangle the grief, identity shifts, and practical challenges that come with divorce, without sidestepping the complexity or rushing the process.

In our work, you won’t find vague platitudes or generic advice. Instead, I focus on clear, actionable insights that help you understand the “why” behind your feelings and behaviors. This understanding is the seed for change. We explore the intersections of your career ambitions, personal values, and the new reality you’re facing. The goal isn’t just to get through the divorce; it’s to emerge more integrated and self-aware on the other side.

One key aspect of my approach is addressing the dual grief we talked about earlier — the loss of the marriage and the loss of the self you built around it. We’ll work on developing emotional fluency so you can identify what’s beneath the anger, sadness, or confusion. This clarity allows you to make choices that align with your true self, not just what’s expected of you.

I draw on several evidence-based modalities depending on what you need. For the nervous system dysregulation that often accompanies relational trauma and loss, I incorporate principles from Somatic Experiencing — developed by Peter Levine, PhD, psychologist and founder of that approach — which helps the body discharge the physiological charge of stress without requiring you to “tell the story” over and over. For the parts of you that are warring with each other, I use Internal Family Systems-informed work. And for the relational patterns you want to understand so you don’t unconsciously recreate them, we use psychodynamic exploration together.

We also look at the systemic pressures you face, including how your role as a driven woman shapes your experience of divorce. This helps to dismantle any internalized shame or self-criticism and replaces it with grounded self-compassion. Therapy becomes a place where you can experiment with new ways of being and relating to yourself, freed from old narratives or external expectations.

Practically speaking, therapy includes developing coping strategies for stress, navigating co-parenting if relevant, managing career transitions, and setting boundaries that support your well-being. It’s a comprehensive approach designed to address the emotional, relational, and logistical facets of post-divorce life.

Ultimately, my role is to be a steady, clear-eyed partner in your process, helping you make sense of the chaos and find your footing. You’ll gain tools, insights, and emotional resilience to walk forward on your own terms.

What to Expect in the First Few Sessions

Starting therapy after divorce can feel daunting, especially if you’re used to managing everything on your own. In the first few sessions, my priority is to create a clear, direct understanding of your current situation and what you want from therapy. We’ll begin with a thorough assessment — not just the facts of your divorce but the emotional landscape you’re navigating.

Expect to talk openly about your experience: the moments that still sting, the challenges you’re facing day-to-day, and the parts of yourself that feel lost or uncertain. I’ll ask questions designed to uncover patterns in your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors, especially those that might be holding you back from moving forward. This isn’t about judgment but about clarity.

In my clinical work, I find that the first session often surprises driven women — not because it’s overwhelming (though it can be) but because it’s the first time in months or even years that someone has asked them what they actually need, rather than what they can handle or deliver. That shift from capability to need is itself therapeutic. It begins to build the internal muscles required for what comes next.

We’ll also identify immediate stressors that need attention, whether it’s managing difficult conversations, balancing work and personal life, or coping with feelings of loneliness or anger. From there, we’ll start to set clear goals tailored to your unique needs, whether that means rebuilding your sense of self, strengthening emotional regulation, or developing practical strategies for your new life.

Because I understand the demands on your time, I’ll be direct and efficient while still providing the emotional depth you need. Therapy won’t be a vague or passive experience; you’ll leave sessions with tangible insights or tools you can use right away. Many of my clients describe their sessions as the one hour in the week where they’re not managing, performing, or producing — just actually landing somewhere and being witnessed. That, too, is part of the work.

In these early sessions, the therapeutic relationship itself is key. You’ll see that I’m not just a clinician but a peer who understands the pressures of ambition and the complexities of divorce. This connection creates a safe space where you can be honest, vulnerable, and courageous.

If you’re wondering whether therapy after divorce is the right step, these initial sessions serve as a litmus test — we’ll both get a sense of whether this process feels helpful and aligned with your goals. And if it does, we’ll build from there with intention and clarity.

If what you’ve read here resonates, I want you to know that individual therapy and executive coaching are available for driven women ready to do this work. You can also explore my self-paced recovery courses or schedule a complimentary consultation to find the right fit.

How to Heal: Rebuilding After Divorce When You’ve Built Everything Else From Scratch

Aisha came to see me six months after her divorce was finalized, at a point when, by most external measures, she was doing remarkably well — she’d kept her job, kept her apartment, kept her routines. She was, she told me, “handling it.” Michelle was the opposite: she’d stopped handling it entirely, called in sick twice in the same week for the first time in her career, and arrived in my office profoundly frightened by her own unraveling. Ana sat somewhere in the middle — functional on the outside, doing the math on how much longer she could sustain the performance. What I see consistently is that divorce for ambitious, driven women doesn’t arrive cleanly as a single loss. It arrives as a landslide: the marriage, the identity built around the partnership, the future that had been assumed, and often — when we go deep enough — older material about belonging and being chosen that the marriage had been quietly managing. Willpower doesn’t move a landslide. Here’s what actually helps.

Here’s the path I walk with clients, in roughly this order:

1. Begin with your nervous system, not your to-do list. The legal, financial, logistical, and co-parenting demands of divorce are real and often urgent, and the driven woman’s instinct is to manage them with maximum efficiency — which can look like coping but is often just another way of avoiding the body’s grief signal. Before any meaningful healing can happen, your nervous system needs some basic regulation: adequate sleep (even imperfect sleep), meals that aren’t skipped, some deliberate physical movement, and at least one person you don’t have to perform for. Lisa Feldman Barrett, PhD, neuroscientist and author of How Emotions Are Made, writes about the body budget — the brain’s ongoing management of physiological resources — and notes that chronic depletion impairs everything from emotion regulation to cognitive flexibility. You can’t grieve, integrate, or rebuild from a body budget that’s in the red. Start there, before the insight work.

2. Name all of what you’ve actually lost — not just the marriage. Divorce is, in my clinical experience, one of the most multiply-layered losses that exists. There’s the relationship itself. There’s the version of your future you’d been counting on. There’s the daily structure, the shared rituals, the person who knew where you kept things. There’s often the loss of a social identity — being a couple, a family unit, part of something. And then, if you go deeper, there’s often a reckoning with something older: the relational trauma patterns that the marriage may have been organized around, the emotional neglect history that shaped how you showed up in the relationship, the grief of having to rebuild a self-concept that had become fused with “we.” Naming all of it — not just the surface losses but the full stack — is not wallowing. It’s the prerequisite for actually integrating it.

3. Practice receiving support, one relationship at a time. One of the most consistent patterns I see in driven women after divorce is the near-total suppression of neediness — they’re the ones checking on other people, organizing logistics, staying busy, not wanting to “burden” anyone. The betrayal trauma of an ended marriage can make it feel genuinely unsafe to need people — and yet co-regulation, the physiological settling that happens in attuned contact with another person, is one of the primary mechanisms through which the nervous system recovers from significant loss. Allow yourself one friend who gets the real version, not the managed version. Let a family member help with one concrete thing. Let a colleague check in and actually answer honestly. This isn’t weakness; it’s using the biological tools you actually have available.

4. Do the deeper work inside a reliable therapeutic relationship. Divorce almost always activates attachment material — the early experiences of loss, abandonment, being left, not being chosen, not being enough — that predate the marriage by decades. This is where the most significant healing happens, and it’s where a skilled therapist becomes essential rather than optional. In individual therapy, we can work with the specific attachment experiences that shaped how you loved and how you lost, and — crucially — we can work toward what’s called earned secure attachment: the experience of a reliable, attuned relationship that begins to rewrite the template for what connection can feel like. As we explored in the section on what therapy after divorce actually looks like, the therapeutic relationship is not just a place to process; it becomes evidence that you can be known, and stay known, even after profound loss.

5. Hold the systemic context without letting it become another reason to avoid feeling. As we explored in the section on why ambitious women’s divorce gets pathologized, the pressure on driven professional women to “handle” their divorce — to move quickly, stay productive, not make their pain other people’s problem — is cultural and damaging. The myth of the resilient professional woman who bounces back from everything is not a compliment; it’s a demand that you perform recovery rather than actually do it. Setting limits with colleagues who need you to be fine before you are, protecting time for genuine rest, allowing your career to absorb a temporary hit — these aren’t failures of professionalism. They’re prerequisites for recovery that actually holds. Somatic Experiencing can be particularly useful here, since the body often holds the grief that the mind has been suppressing.

6. Rebuild your life in layers, not all at once. There will be pressure — internal and external — to figure out the next chapter quickly. What I’ve found is that the women who do best after divorce resist the urge to rebuild the identity architecture too fast and instead spend real time in the in-between: learning who they are without the marriage, rediscovering what they actually want, and grieving the version of their life that won’t happen. That in-between is uncomfortable and necessary. The life that gets built from it — slowly, honestly, from the inside out — tends to be far more genuinely satisfying than one assembled quickly with the partner simply removed. You’re not behind. You’re building something real.

If you’re navigating divorce — or still processing one that happened longer ago than you’d admit — please know that the grief is real, the complexity is real, and support is available. Whether through individual therapy to work through the relational trauma and attachment layers, executive coaching if the professional disruption is where you’re most struggling to find footing, or the self-paced Fixing the Foundations course as a starting point for building inner resources on your own timeline — you don’t have to handle this alone. You can schedule a consultation to talk through what would be most useful right now. You’ve built extraordinary things before. You’ll build again — and this time, from a more honest foundation.

Related Reading

Amato, Paul R. “The Consequences of Divorce for Adults and Children.” Journal of Marriage and Family 62, no. 4 (2000): 1269–87.

Finkel, Eli J., et al. “Online Divorce Therapy: A New Frontier in Mental Health.” Journal of Clinical Psychology 74, no. 2 (2018): 180–93.

Kelly, Joan B. “Psychological and Legal Interventions for Children and Families in Divorce.” Social Issues and Policy Review 8, no. 1 (2014): 143–80.

Wallerstein, Judith S., and Sandra Blakeslee. The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce: A 25 Year Landmark Study. New York: Hyperion, 2003.

If any of this feels uncomfortably familiar, I’d like to talk with you. A 20-minute consultation is the first step — no commitment, no forms, just a conversation between two professionals.

References

Peer-Reviewed Research (Vancouver)

1. van der Kolk BA, Wang JB, Yehuda R, Bedrosian L, Coker AR, Harrison C, et al. Effects of MDMA-assisted therapy for PTSD on self-experience. PLoS One. 2024;19(1):e0295926. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0295926. PMID: 38198456.
2. Payne P, Levine PA, Crane-Godreau MA. Somatic experiencing: using interoception and proprioception as core elements of trauma therapy. Front Psychol. 2015;6:93. doi:10.3389/fpsyg.2015.00093. PMID: 25699005.
3. Reisz S, Duschinsky R, Siegel DJ. Disorganized attachment and defense: exploring John Bowlby's unpublished reflections. Attach Hum Dev. 2018;20(2):107-134. doi:10.1080/14616734.2017.1380055. PMID: 28952412.
4. Greenman PS, Johnson SM. Emotionally focused therapy: Attachment, connection, and health. Curr Opin Psychol. 2022;43:146-150. doi:10.1016/j.copsyc.2021.06.015. PMID: 34375935.
5. Brenner EG, Schwartz RC, Becker C. Development of the internal family systems model: Honoring contributions from family systems therapies. Fam Process. 2023;62(4):1290-1306. doi:10.1111/famp.12943. PMID: 37924221.

Books & Cultural Sources (Chicago Author-Date)

• Maté, Gabor. When the Body Says No. A.A. Knopf Canada, 2003.
• Dickinson, Emily. The complete poems of Emily Dickinson. Little, Brown, 1960.

Medical Disclaimer

Medical Disclaimer