A Self-led life is possible for all: including you and me

Having choice beyond the influence and imprints of dominant cultural norms is what IFS has meant for me. Growing up, we all absorb messages from those around us - family, teachers, society. These messages weigh down our systems. Especially if you, like me, have felt and are different.

For those of us who are marginalized, whether due to race, gender, identity, or other social locations, these differences create stress and leave lasting burdens. Micro-aggressions and social dynamics deeply affect our well-being.

IFS offers a non-judgmental way to heal from these burdens and to live in harmony with our true selves. It doesn’t ask us to conform to societal expectations but instead supports us in unburdening from them.

Where traditional therapies aim for optimal functioning within the dominant culture and spiritual traditions tend to detach from power dynamics in the world, IFS does neither. Instead, IFS supports healing from the dominant culture.

For me, this work is about finding a place of compassion for both ourselves and the world around us, freeing us up to live fully and authentically.

As an IFS practitioner, I work at the intersection of social transformation and personal unfolding.

I support turning external stories into inner explorations. When our parts start trusting our Self, healing will happen, and we get to experience our creativity, joy, and inner peace.

Long story short: failed journalist - historian - therapist & trainer

• I initially pursued journalism and therefore studied History
• Inspired by Geertje Mak's Manly Women, I started aspiring an academic career
• In 2018, witnessing increasing numbers of young people burning out I decided to change careers: I started my private practice 
• Retrained as a coach/ counselor, I developed the Outsmarting the Impostor and other self-defeating dynamics workshop - parts work before I knew what parts work was
• I was introduced to IFS, and the rest is history

Pursuing journalism

I once believed journalism was my path, enrolling in a program in Utrecht after my final exams. But a phone call from my history teacher changed my course. He urged me to study Societal History instead, and I enrolled in a small program at Erasmus University. In the quiet of the university library, reading Manly Women by Geertje Mak, I realized I wanted to do more than report stories—I wanted to understand them deeply. I aspired to pursue a doctorate.

My graduation thesis explored the fierce debates led by Betsy Perk, a trailblazing white feminist advocating for women's education and paid employment. Perk’s motto, "Labor Ennobles," challenged societal norms that restricted women’s roles, and her sharp criticism targeted anyone—clergy, publishers, even feminists—who opposed her. Her life and work inspired a powerful documentary, Women Forward (Vrouwen Voorwaarts), for which I provided insights into her later years.

Through history, I learned that gender is not a binary of man 'versus' woman. Moreover, gender is about a human’s place in society. Masculinity and femininity remain heavily guarded, but those like Perk showed that challenging these norms is vital for social transformation.

The central thesis of my thesis?

The correct antonym for woman is not man, but individual. Nothing in our culture is as heavily guarded as masculinity and femininity.

Sex and sexuality

My journey began with an MA thesis exploring gender and cultural perceptions of sex, and a PhD project that deepened my understanding of sexuality. Detours along the way—as a research assistant, secondary school teacher, and parliamentary aide—ultimately led me to the International Institute of Social History, where I defended my dissertation Guilty Sex in 2009. The study revealed that homosexuality is a historical variable, with persecution peaking in 1949, after the liberation. My key finding?

Homosexuality is a historical variable. It varies by time and place.

My academic career was driven by a passion to create impact through research. I taught students that history equips them to challenge power structures and become the critical backbone of society. Teaching, research, and activism allowed me to develop courses on the history of sexuality, activism, and political history, and organize events that bridged academia with the wider community.

After years of enriching teaching and research, I felt the pull to leave academia and apply the insights I’d gained about identity, struggle, and transformation in a new way, to in the end becoming an IFS therapist. This new path allows me to continue exploring the complexities of the human experience, helping others navigate their own histories and inner landscapes.

Evolving through psychodynamics: my journey to IFS

As a scholar, I saw how systems could stifle intellectual growth and contribute to burnout. I wanted to shift from being part of the problem to becoming a solution—becoming a skilled counselor. My journey led me to the Bambu Center for Awareness in Utrecht, where Eline Brinkhorst and Eddy Stap introduced me to our inner sub-personalities and the transformative work of Piero Ferrucci. It was a revelation.

For my graduation, I created the workshop Outsmarting the Impostor, guiding scientists to engage with their inner saboteurs in a new, empowering way. Rather than silencing them, I encouraged participants to collaborate with these parts of themselves, transforming struggle into deeper self-understanding.

At Bambu, I met Nina van der Hoek, and that was a turning point. Watching her skillful integration of IFS, I knew: this was the path I wanted to follow.

The rest is history.

As long as I can remember, I’ve known I wasn’t a girl.

Growing up in the late seventies, no one around me knew the word “non-binary.” I didn’t either until I was 38, and when I finally found that word, things began to click into place.

Holy Communion in yellow pants

I protested against girls' clothes from a young age. I still remember my First Holy Communion—while other girls wore dresses, I proudly wore yellow pants, a blue sweater, and slip-on shoes. Yet without the language to understand my identity, I spent years believing my feelings stemmed from my sexual orientation, not my gender. At 38, discovering my non-binary identity wasn’t a moment of instant clarity—it came with confronting internalized homophobia and transphobia that had built up over time.

Confused on a deeper level

Looking back, I can trace the threads that ran through my life. My studies and career always revolved around gender and sexuality, yet it took me years to internalize these ideas personally. Thinking had been my safe place, my strength. Understanding myself required a deeper courage.

Touching hearts, healing culture

Now, as the backlash against transgender and non-binary rights grows, I find meaning in connecting with one heart at a time, showing the world that we are just as human and beautiful as anyone else. As the poet and performance artist Alok Vaid-Menon says:

'We’ve got to love them more than they hate us.'

Hatred isn’t the answer. The path forward is one of radical love—for ourselves, for each other, for everyone.