Pushing Away
Hug Me (Said the Cactus)
She pricks before she speaks.
Braces before she breathes.
But still —
stuck to her thorns
in invisible ink —
is a sign that says:
"Hug me."
And I see it.
Even when I can’t reach.
Some people protect their need for connection by pushing others away.
What looks like harshness may be a heart armored in survival.
Gentle Reflection:
When someone leads with edge, it’s easy to recoil or retaliate.
But sometimes, their sharpness is hiding something soft — a longing to be accepted, seen, or held… without knowing how to ask for it.
The truth is, their survival strategy doesn’t make it safe to get close.
But naming the ache beneath the armor can help you stay clear without turning cold.
Journal Inspirations:
Who in your life has armor that hides a quiet “hug me” sign?
How do you respond — emotionally or somatically — when someone’s protection pricks you?
Can you recognize the longing without sacrificing your own boundaries?
Grounding Practice — “Armor Without Absorption”
Picture the cactus clearly. See its spines. See the soft inside.
Now picture yourself as a small desert breeze — able to move past without being pierced.
You can witness pain
without needing to carry it.
Closing Grace:
Some people can’t receive the closeness they crave.
And that’s not yours to fix.
You can love someone’s ache from afar.
And still choose peace for yourself.
