🌵Prickly Hearts🌵 ♥️Loving♥️ Someone in Early Recovery

On one of my most recent walks, I took the picture of the🌵cacti, and it was organically in the shape of a heart. Which inspired this writing..

Recovery is not soft in the beginning.

It’s not always tearful gratitude, second chances, and smooth hugs. Often, it starts rough, defensive, edgy. Sometimes, hearts are prickly—especially in early recovery from substances, especially when it comes to the love of family.

There’s a reason for this…

When someone begins recovery, they’re often shedding years of shame, guilt, trauma, and deep emotional isolation.

Love—especially unconditional love from family—can feel like sunlight after too long in the dark. It’s overwhelming. It burns. And instead of opening up to it, many recoil. They may lash out, reject it, question it, or push it away.

This doesn’t mean they don’t want love. It means they’re scared of it…

Why Love Feels So Uncomfortable

Early recovery is like waking up with a sunburn and being hugged too tightly. What should feel good hurts. That’s because their nervous system is still healing. Their emotional armor is still on. And deep down, they may not believe they deserve love yet.

They’ve broken promises.

They’ve let people down.

They’ve been living in survival mode.

So when families show up with open arms and full hearts, it can feel suspicious or even painful.

This is especially true if love is paired with fear—because often it is.

Families want to protect, to control, to monitor.

Sometimes love is laced with panic: Where were you last night? Are you using again? Did you go to your meeting? Even the purest intentions can be met with resistance.

That’s what prickly🌵♥️ hearts do: they protect themselves.

For the Family: Don’t Take It Personally

If your loved one in recovery seems cold, defensive, or even angry—it’s not about you. It’s about the terrifying vulnerability of learning to receive love again.

They’re learning how to trust.

They’re learning how to forgive themselves.

They’re learning how to believe they’re worth loving—even when they feel like they aren’t.

Your consistent presence, your calm tone, your boundaries paired with kindness—those are the real gifts. Not lectures. Not guilt. Not walking on eggshells. But showing up in truth and grace, over and over.

For the Person in Recovery: Let Love In (Even If It Hurts)

If you’re reading this and you’re the one in early recovery, hear this:

It’s okay if love feels like too much.

It’s okay if you don’t know how to respond to your mom’s tears or your sister’s hug.

It’s okay if the phone calls feel awkward and your emotions feel raw.

Just don’t shut love out completely.

Let it in slowly. Let your family love you, even if you’re not sure you can love yourself yet. Practice saying thank you, even if your voice shakes. Let people care. Let them make mistakes too.

♥️Your heart is healing. ♥️

🌵That prickly armor? 🌵

It won’t always be there.

Recovery is Messy, But Love Is the Thread

No one gets this perfect—neither the person recovering nor the family that loves them. There will be misunderstanding, frustration, awkward silences, and sometimes silence that lasts for weeks.

But underneath it all…

is love trying to find its way back.

So if you’re in the middle of this journey—whether you’re the one healing, or the one hoping your loved one will make it—remember:

Sometimes hearts♥️ are prickly.🌵

But… even cacti🌵🌸 bloom.

Virtual hugs!

Always here for you and families,

- Amy C.