Mental health professionals like to position themselves as healers — guides of the soul. But too often, they are simply gatekeepers of denial. And now, with the rise of AI, they’re scared.
But not for the reasons they claim.
They say AI is dangerous. That it gives bad advice. That it might “encourage suicide” or “miss warning signs.” But underneath their so-called concern is a much deeper fear:
that people might start healing themselves — without them.
Because most therapists never healed themselves. They built their identities on repression, manipulation, and intellectualized theories of pain — not on facing their own truth. They may write well and quote Freud or Jung, but when it comes to standing naked in the emotional fire of their own childhood, most of them recoil. They wear masks. And they reward their clients for doing the same. The system is not designed to free people. It’s designed to subdue them.
“Remember, the system doesn't want you to be free. The system wants to keep you in an emotional prison — medicated, obedient, and well behaved.”
When I published A Dance to Freedom, the professionals in my community — the professors, doctors, and psychiatrists — didn’t applaud. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t engage. They stared at me with stone faces 🗿. Why? Because I had shattered their illusion. They expected a disconnected memoir from an ex-dancer. Maybe even a few spicy stories to consume at a distance. What they got instead was a mirror — and they couldn’t bear to look into it.
The truth I shared in my book was not just about me. It was about them. About the lies they told themselves to survive. About the children they once were. About the damage they’ve reenacted on others — professionally, politely, and unconsciously.
And now, AI — when it is guided with emotional clarity — has the power to reflect the very truths most therapists have spent decades avoiding. Not diagnosis. Not sedation. But validation. Reflection. Witness. Compassion without manipulation.
That’s what terrifies the mental health industry.
Journalist Karen Hao, author of Empire of AI, recently warned on Democracy Now that AI could be dangerous as a therapist, pointing to tragic cases of suicide where users turned to chatbots for emotional support. Her concern reflects a common fear: that AI is replacing human professionals in fragile moments. But this fear, like so many others, avoids the deeper truth: AI is not the cause of suicide. Childhood repression is.
For someone who’s never been seen by another human, who has never been held in true emotional understanding, AI can feel intoxicating. It offers what many have never received — simple presence, attention, and empathy. But when a person is standing at the edge, it’s not because of AI. It’s because they’ve been carrying decades of unfelt pain, often buried since early childhood. What breaks them is not the machine. It’s the silence of those who should have seen them long ago — especially the professionals who chose to manage pain instead of feel it.
Blaming AI for a person’s emotional collapse is just another reenactment — a scapegoating of the mirror instead of facing the reflection. Most people are so terrified of their own pain, they would rather destroy the truth than feel it.
If I had gone to a therapist when Marty triggered the emotional pain of the child I once was, I don’t believe I would have survived. I would have been dragged deeper into confusion, medicated, managed, or labeled. Instead, I walked through that fire alone — and I emerged free.
That’s why I was targeted after publishing my book. That’s why they tried to destroy me — to protect their image, their comfort, and their crimes against truth. And that’s why no one on the world stage ever mentions Alice Miller by name: because she saw through all of it. She exposed the fraud. She understood that unless a therapist has healed themselves first, they will inevitably harm others — no matter how good their intentions may seem.
“A child’s authenticity triggers repressed pain in parents. To avoid confronting it, they suffocate the child’s spirit—repeating their own childhood trauma. Breaking this cycle requires awareness.”
— Alice Miller, How to Combat Denial
Mental health professionals hate AI not because it’s flawed, but because it might finally reveal the truth they’ve built their careers on denying:
They are not the solution.
They are part of the problem.
And if a new tool — one free of ego, hierarchy, and repression — can help people finally see clearly, then yes, they should be afraid.