Tag Archives: trauma healing

On Surviving the Potholes of Self-Love Deficit Disorder Recovery


On our healing journey, sometimes we hit potholes in the road. Such surprises may cause us to temporarily lose control of our “vehicle.”  In an adrenaline filled moment of terror, we contemplate the end. Because of our newfound healing instinct, we tightly grab hold of the “wheel” and muscle our car back on to the road. This is when we steer our fate back to self-love
Worry not; you are moving in the right direction! Hold tight onto your courage, as the road to self-love abundance is fraught with risk. When you do arrive, and you will, you will realize that no destination as sweet as this can ever be achieved on a road free of obstacles and dangers. Therefore, self-love is not only the antidote to your driving dilemma, it’s also the destination you have always deserved.

Ross Rosenberg


Ross Rosenberg, M.Ed., LCPC, CADC, CSAT
Clinical Care Consultants Owner
Self-Love Recovery Institute Owner
Psychotherapist, Author & Professional Trainer
Author of The Human Magnet Syndrome

Creator of “The Codependency Cure: Recovering from Self-Love Deficit Disorder” seminar (and upcoming book)

SELF LOVE RECOVERY INSTITUTE                         

Poem: On Becoming a Rose: The Journey to Self-Love


Inspired by Anaïs Nin.  “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”

Breaking through to self-love
is the most difficult journey
for paralyzed and anxious
rose bud people,
whose roots are deeply
and inescapably implanted
in the inhospitable soil
of forgotten and discarded dreams.

The long winters of waiting
tires any rose bud
who has had a lifetime
of disappointing dreams
of not being able to open up,
to share their nectar of self-love.

The sun-drenched landscape
where happy and fulfilled roses
freely bask in golden rays of love
to share their delicious fragrance
remains the forbidden sad dreamscape
for many a frightened rose bud

Rose buds dream
of throwing caution to the wind,
risking predictable harm
and inevitable pain
for the moment of pure happiness
when hope and love
overtake the loneliness of safety

We all start off as a rose bud.
Perfect and pure,
filled with potential
to become a most beautiful, unique,
and remarkable flower.

Wounded roses
who were neither protected
nor nurtured,
know only to hunker down
in a safe bud state,
to weather unpredictable storms.

History has demonstrated
that decisions to open up,
to bloom,
have predictably been met
with the opposition of
gale force winds
and torrential storms.

There comes a time
when the courage to transform
into a beautiful rose,
the one we always were,
but didn’t know about,
overcomes our fearful vigilance
to avoid further harm.

The time is now,
to allow ourselves to understand,
that the fear of harm
brought more suffering and losses
than would have the rain, wind, and frost.

We need to bravely
be optimistic about the world,
about ourselves,
and decide to no longer settle
for loneliness infused safety.

Deciding to bloom
allows us to come to terms
and accept
our frightened rose bud life,
and why our parents
could and never would
tell us about our beautiful flower.

It is time to discard our life
as a lonely self-love deprived
and unrealized rose,
and bravely allow ourselves
to transform into the flower
we always have been.

As we vulnerably and carefully
come to full bloom,
stretch our arms out,
and connect with an unpredictable
but potentially loving world,
we will experience,
for the first time
the freedom of a flower.

Only at this time
will we finally understand
the cost of mistaking ourselves
for a rose bud,
and not the flower we always were.

The companion (to this poem) YouTube video

Smiling Skeletons. A Poem About Healing and Transformation by Ross Rosenberg

Smiling Skeletons (A Poem about Healing and Transformation)
By Ross Rosenberg

Walking down the usual paths in my life,
without a thought,
without a plan,
I unexpectedly found myself
mysteriously drawn
toward the direction
of my childhood home.

This repository of childhood dreams,
was barely recognizable
and frighteningly familiar.
Although ladened with bittersweet memories
I was beckoned toward it.

A memory of the child I was,
whispered to me,
encouraged me
to approach the front door,
grasp the door knob.
Feel its cold metal welcome.
And enter the haunted domain
of my childhood.
Long not visited,
long avoided

Until now,
I have not had the energy:
To enter rooms long closed to me.
To open up closets.
Expose dark clutter to the light of day
Fearlessly sift through memories.
Feel that which has been safely frozen in time.

My neatly packaged
stowed away memories,
took a new surprising form:
Transforming into skeletons.
Clattery boned friends
comprised of loosely connected parts
of the child I was.

The battle between
the effort needed to be honest,
and the courage to explore the truth,
kept me out of these rooms.
Kept me far from these sacred closets.
Disallowing me to fully accept
this bittersweet memories of my youth.

I think I am ready now
to sustain an episode
of honest recollection.
To venture into darkly lit closets.
To bring the past into the present.
To face my skeletons.

I am no longer the same child,
who with nervous and frightful glee
watched the Saturday night horror movies,
That showcased the dancing bony demons.
And being afraid to sleep.

With each skeleton I encounter,
I find I can open my eyes without fright.
And see that they actually smile at me,
Explaining to me,
with their dark happy and kind eyes:
It is now ok to remember.

Ok to let go.
Ok to close the closet.
Ok to go home.
And Ok start living in the present.

I have spent a lifetime avoiding skeletons.
Now they are my friends.

Ross Rosenberg