If you prefer to watch rather than read, the video version of this reflection is available at the bottom of the page.
One of the things recovery has taught me is that there are some experiences that can only be fully understood by people who have walked a similar path.
That doesn’t mean our loved ones don’t care.
In fact, sometimes they care so much that they become frightened by what we share.
I often talk in groups about the importance of finding spaces where we can be completely open and honest. Not because our loved ones aren’t supportive, but because it’s unfair to expect one person to meet every need we have.
The people closest to me can love me deeply.
They can support me wholeheartedly.
But there are certain conversations that belong in recovery rooms, with sponsors, peers, mentors, or trusted friends who understand the terrain.
In a previous reflection, The Places Where We Don’t Have to Perform, I wrote about the relief that comes from being in spaces where we can stop managing how we appear and simply tell the truth. Those spaces have become an important part of my recovery because they allow me to be honest about what I’m actually experiencing instead of what I think other people need to hear.
A simple example is when someone in recovery says, “I had a thought about drinking today.”
If I share that with another person in recovery, they usually understand the difference between a thought and an action. They understand that thoughts come and go. They understand that recovery is not the absence of cravings, temptations, or old patterns. Recovery is often what happens next.
But if I share that same thought with someone who has never struggled with a substance use disorder, they may hear something very different.
They hear danger.
They hear relapse.
They hear the possibility of losing someone they love.
Neither response is wrong.
They’re simply coming from different places.
One of the gifts of recovery is finding people who speak the language. Not because they’re better. Not because they’re more important. But because they’ve stood in some of the same places and know what certain experiences feel like from the inside.
I’ve learned not to confuse support with understanding.
The people who love us most may not always understand every part of our experience.
And the people who understand our experience may not always be the people we share our lives with every day.
Both have value.
Both matter.
Recovery taught me that I don’t have to choose between them.
I can be grateful for the people who love me.
And I can be grateful for the people who understand.
Sometimes healing happens when someone across the room simply nods and says, “I get it.”
And sometimes that’s exactly what we need.
— Don Phelps
Awakening With Don®
The Circle Is Never Closed™
Watch on YouTube here
