Did he help you?

One question often arises after sharing my fraudulent psychologist story: "Did he help you?"

My younger, angrier self would have felt insulted by the inquiry. After belly-crawling through hell, how unnerving and insensitive to ask me such a thing? But I'm no longer that twenty-four-year-old burn victim. I'm no longer the seed nestled deep in the charred earth. Decades have passed. I'm a mighty pine, tall and strong—my needles dance in the wind, high above the soil. I see clearly from way up here. The sections of fire that ravage the land. All seems tragic and frightening to those in the path of destruction. But after the flames have quelled and life is reduced to smoldering embers, the land is rich and fertile for new growth.

I sprouted from the fire set by those I loved.

The answer is yes. He helped me. While escorting me to the depths of callousness and cruelty, he taught me who not to be. He exercised my resilience. His disingenuousness set me on a path to experience true love. Pain doesn't last forever. Wounds heal. Instincts never lie.

Buried underground, we all have a choice: Decay into our environment or reach for the light we cannot see. Adversity sprouts the most resilient life. Like the pine tree, I choose to thrive in the aftermath.