top of page

You Are Not Just One Person - Part 1

Revealing the Inner Cast of Subpersonalities Within Us


This is Part 1 of a three-part article series. Part 2 will explore how subpersonalities evolve into entities that hijack the brain, while Part 3 will conclude with the challenges of removing them; along with an instruction manual for doing so.
This is Part 1 of a three-part article series. Part 2 will explore how subpersonalities evolve into entities that hijack the brain, while Part 3 will conclude with the challenges of removing them; along with an instruction manual for doing so.

The concept of sub-personalities is more familiar than we might initially realize. Many renowned psychologists have referenced them, using a variety of terms to describe these inner facets of the mind. Despite their prevalence in psychological theory, sub-personalities have often remained on the periphery, rarely taking center stage in mainstream discussions or research. There is only one psychology book dedicated exclusively to subpersonalities.


Many of us have experienced moments when it feels as though we’ve been “taken over” by a part of ourselves we didn’t even know existed. We say things like, “I don’t know what got into me,” often referring to situations where our actions seem out of character. A common example is an episode of uncontrolled rage, though positive manifestations can occur as well. These moments often reveal the presence of a subpersonality—a distinct facet of our psyche that emerges in response to specific circumstances. What’s striking is how these states persist despite our conscious efforts to change them and typically dissolve only when the triggering situation ends.


Therapists and psychological researchers have long suggested that we are not a singular self, but a collection of selves that shift and surface depending on the situation or interaction. Skilled therapists have observed patients who exhibit distinct parts of themselves—so separate and defined that they almost seem like independent personalities.


Everyday phrases like, “On one hand, I want to quit my job, but on the other, I might regret it,” or “It felt like a voice was telling me to do it,” offer subtle but significant clues. They hint at the inner dynamics of subpersonalities, each with their own desires, fears, and perspectives, vying for control on the moment.


Many schools of psychotherapy view subpersonalities not as fleeting influences but as enduring psychological structures that shape how we feel, think, and behave. They influence self-perception and identity so deeply that, in those moments, it’s as though we become the subpersonality. Life begins to resemble a theater, with an ever-changing cast of subpersonalities stepping onto the stage, each one suited to the current scene and circumstance. This perspective not only sheds light on our inner conflicts but also reveals the complexity and richness of the human mind.


Roberto Assagioli, the founder of psychosynthesis, said:


“Subpersonalities are psychological satellites, coexisting as a multitude of lives within the medium of our personality. Each subpersonality has a style and motivation of its own, often strikingly dissimilar from those of the others. Each of us is a crowd. There can be the rebel and the intellectual, the seducer and the housewife, the saboteur and the aesthete, the organizer and the bon vivant each with its own mythology, and all more or less crowded into one single person. Often they are far from being at peace with one another. ..Several subpersonalities are continually scuffling: impulses, desires, principles, aspirations, are engaged in an unceasing struggle.”


Guided by the profound insights of ayahuasca, my early years working with the medicine brought into sharp focus the many facets of my persona—subpersonalities that seemed to take turns running the show. One of the most prominent was the businessman, a corporate archetype driven by the relentless pursuit of competency, status, and the elusive salary raise. As a divorced bank executive in my mid-forties, I began to recognize how easily this persona would step aside for another: the romantic lover, who emerged when a captivating woman entered the scene.


The transitions didn’t stop there. On any given evening, a phone call from an old high school buddy inviting me to a baseball game would summon the sports fan, eager to revel in the camaraderie of the stands. Later that night, the intellectual nerd might commandeer my time, poring over scientific texts with relentless curiosity.


Meanwhile, the spiritual seeker waited patiently, ready to redirect my focus toward meditation, yoga, and readings on metaphysics. These distinct versions of myself weren’t merely roles I played—they were dynamic parts of my inner world, each with its own motivations, quirks, and desires.


Through ayahuasca, I learned to observe this internal parade of "me's," shifting in response to the circumstances of my life. During one particularly illuminating session, Mother Ayahuasca confronted me directly. She presented a striking vision: the soft-spoken, polished businessman at the office standing side by side with the rough-edged, beer-drinking dude who emerged during nights out with my closest friends. Then came her question, delivered with piercing clarity: Who are you?

The message was unmistakable. If I truly aspired to self-realization—a goal I had often prayed for before my ceremonies—I needed to begin integrating these subpersonalities. The lesson wasn’t about suppressing or eliminating them but weaving them into a cohesive, authentic self. The scattered fragments of identity, while useful in their own domains, were holding me back from the wholeness and balance that comes from alignment. It was a call to bridge the gaps, to harmonize the many voices within, and to embrace my full self with conscious awareness.


Accepting the concept of subpersonalities within my self-identity wasn’t particularly challenging, thanks to an early exposure during my college years in the 1970s. Back then, I participated in a psychology workshop centered on Transactional Analysis (TA) therapy. This therapeutic framework presented a compelling model of the personality, dividing it into three ego-states: the inner child, the rational adult, and the parent-like self. Each of these states represented distinct aspects of the psyche, with the therapy’s goal being to resolve emotional issues by fostering dialogue and negotiation among them—hence the term transactional.


This experience gave me an early glimpse into the multifaceted nature of the self. It revealed that classical psychology has long grappled with the idea of our multiple inner voices, striving to create models that account for this inner complexity. Transactional Analysis was just one of these efforts, offering a structured and relatable way to explore the diverse elements of who we are. It planted the seed for my eventual understanding that these ego-states, or subpersonalities, aren’t aberrations but intrinsic to human nature, waiting to be acknowledged, understood, and integrated.


Understanding Subpersonalities: Insights into Human Adaptability

Subpersonalities should not be mistaken for innate survival instincts—those reactive responses hardwired into our master program that seize control in moments of emotional intensity. Instead, subpersonalities represent specific behavioral patterns newly forged by our adaptive master program to enhance survival. When repetitive actions or reactions solidify into consistent quantum field patterns, they cross a threshold, forming thought-forms. These thought-forms then activate automatically when similar circumstances arise.


Though often labeled dysfunctional in classical psychology, subpersonalities are a testament to human adaptability, a natural byproduct of our capacity to adjust to our environment. It's important, however, to distinguish between subpersonalities and the psychiatric condition of dissociative identity disorder (formerly called multiple personality disorder). The latter involves a much higher degree of dissociation and functional impairment, representing a distinct phenomenon altogether.


One of the most self-limiting beliefs we carry is the idea that we are indivisible, immutable beings—a single, unchanging identity. Recognizing the contrary can be both enlightening and unsettling. It forces us to confront the layered, multifaceted nature of the self. While this realization may initially challenge our perception of who we are, it can ultimately empower us to better understand and integrate the various elements of our psyche.


Mindfulness is an invaluable tool for this process. By cultivating daily awareness, we can observe our subpersonalities in action, identifying when and how they take control. This awareness can prevent subpersonalities from overshadowing the ego-self and disrupting the balance of our subconscious and soul selves.


Recognizing and Managing Subpersonalities

Identifying subpersonalities in ourselves and others can transform how we navigate relationships. For instance, instead of viewing a loved one’s behavior as a reflection of their entire being, we can attribute it to a specific subpersonality. This perspective allows us to address issues more constructively, avoiding the feeling of a personal attack. A playful comment like, “I hope your compulsive organizer doesn’t mind if I leave this tool out for the day,” can diffuse tension while acknowledging the specific trait.


Naming and labeling subpersonalities can also enhance self-awareness. Once identified, it becomes easier to recognize when a subpersonality is triggered and adjust our behavior accordingly. Even self-talk—a phenomenon often stigmatized as irrational—can be an enlightening exercise. Asking, “Who is talking to whom?” during moments of introspection can reveal surprising aspects of our inner dynamics.


Our dreams can serve as a portal to understanding sub-personalities. Characters within dreams often re-present hidden aspects of ourselves. If a dream figure communicates an important message, it may signal that a subpersonality is attempting to reach your conscious mind. Reflecting on these dream interactions can uncover valuable insights about unresolved internal conflicts or latent traits.


Alcohol is a well-known catalyst for subpersonalities to emerge. At family gatherings or celebrations, we’ve all witnessed someone’s personality shift after a few drinks—becoming unusually affectionate, sorrowful, or aggressive. These changes occur because alcohol diminishes the ego-self’s inhibitions, allowing subpersonalities to rise to the surface.


Prolonged trauma often results in the bundling of painful memories into a distinct subpersonality. This mechanism serves as a survival strategy, allowing the individual to compartmentalize and carry on. However, such subpersonalities may remain latent until triggered later in life, potentially disrupting the ego-self and contributing to conditions like PTSD.


In more extreme cases, subpersonalities may wrestle for dominance, creating a scenario where one gains control over the ego-self for extended periods. While these situations venture into the realm of psychiatric disorders, they highlight the same core principle: subpersonalities arise as a natural, albeit complex, function of human adaptability.


Recognizing subpersonalities is not about labeling ourselves as broken or dysfunctional. Instead, it’s an opportunity to embrace the dynamic, adaptable nature of the human self. By integrating these subpersonalities, we move closer to achieving self-realization, fostering harmony within the multifaceted layers of our psyche.


Through mindfulness, self-reflection, and compassionate understanding of others, we can navigate the complex terrain of subpersonalities to achieve greater emotional and spiritual growth.


This is an excerpt from the section “Principles of Quantum Psychology” found in Chapter Seven of Ayahuasca Wisdom: Achieving Personal Spiritual Healing with a Quantum Model of the Psyche. Available in Amazon




Comments


bottom of page