5 Key Takeaways from the EMDRIA 2025 Conference
Recently, I had the honor of leading a continuing education event for over 200 mental health professionals. With 900+ registered attendees, we discussed Bridging Models: IFS in EMDR Clinical Practice.
Even though it was virtual, I could feel the collective energy through the screen. The curiosity, the parts of us that protect when something new challenges our framework, and the shared excitement about integration. I walked away with a few lessons that deepened my teaching and internal practice as well.
Courage doesn’t mean calm
As I was sitting on screen with my video off and seeing all the participants logging on, my parts were loud. The one that worries about “getting it wrong,” the one that wants people to like me, and the one that just wants to close the laptop and disappear, all had something to say.
What I learned (again) is that courage isn’t the absence of those parts. It’s the willingness to stay with them, breathe, and move forward anyway. It is me no longer abandoning my parts and letting the fear take over. It is me showing up and reminding them that I am here leading this training, not my eight year old part who is full of terror. In a way, modeling that presence with my own internal system was part of the teaching itself.
The field is ready for integration
When I asked participants how many were already blending IFS principles into their EMDR work, hands raised, heads nodded, and the chat lit up. Many times in training and consultation, therapists share with me that they’ve already been doing this integrative work but they didn’t realize it. They were trusting their clinical intuition and the wisdom of their clients’ innate ability to heal, and parts show up.
We’re collectively ready to bridge models and move beyond rigid frameworks and into conversations that honor both the structured precision of EMDR and the compassionate curiosity of IFS. The energy in the (virtual) room confirmed what I’ve felt for a while—our field is craving integration that honors both the science and the soul of therapy.
Teaching is co-regulation—even online
Even over Zoom, I could feel the shifts in the collective nervous system. There were moments when curiosity and openness filled the space, and others when skepticism or overwhelm naturally surfaced. My own parts were overwhelmed at times when trying hard to teach really big concepts in a way that was concise and easy enough to understand in less than an hour. When I got to the experiential exercise of leading a curiosity meditation, my parts were allowed to settle, breathe, and rest into the felt sense of curiosity.
Learning to attune to that by slowing down, naming what’s happening, and inviting a pause wasn’t just about good facilitation, rather co-regulation. Teaching, like therapy, is a relational act.
Every part deserves recognition
After the presentation, waves of relief, gratitude, and vulnerability came up. The parts that doubted whether I could hold such a large space softened. The ones that sought validation smiled as colleagues shared what resonated. This wasn’t just professional growth, it was internal work in motion. Every part that showed up before, during, and after the event played an important role in making it possible.
To everyone who joined live or watched the replay, thank you for showing up with openness and curiosity. And to those continuing to explore how these two models can inform each other, I can’t wait to see where this collective conversation leads.