The first time I ever realized that I was "different" was when my parents took me to speak with a therapist when I was four years old.
My parents had a friend who had medical issues when he was a kid, and the friend said that he wished he had had therapy to talk through issues.
So I went to the office of this nice but chatty and nosey lady where I sat on the floor and played with a Harry Potter board game. While I was trying to figure out how to play this game, the lady kept asking me about my ear and how I "felt about my ear."
It was my ear, so I felt about it the way I felt about my eyes, my fingers, my mouth: I felt fine about it. But there was something about how she was asking the question that made me think: "Maybe I should be thinking about and feeling something about my ear."
So I wasn't really thinking or feeling anything about my ear until the therapist brought it up.
After about five sessions, I stopped seeing the therapist.
This is just my own experience. No harm no foul. The therapist didn't help or harm me. I probably would have been fine without the therapist. There certainly wasn't any harm in my seeing a therapist.
Therapy wasn't the silver bullet for me; however, I still think it's a good idea for parents to give their children with microtia the opportunity to talk about their feelings. I'm glad my parents gave me the opportunity to speak with someone. It wasn't useful at the time, but it sent the signal that it's okay to talk with someone about my feelings. It makes me know that the door is always open if I ever want to see someone to discuss my feelings at any point in the future.
Maybe I'll want to speak with someone when I'm older. Maybe not.
Everyone is different and has different needs.
That's one thing that I learn as a kid with microtia.