California content creator Taylor Mazza first used ChatGPT during her last semester of college around a year and a half ago. After a few months of using it for birth chart readings, she opened up to the chatbot about some personal issues. From that moment on, ChatGPT became her therapist. “I needed a more objective perspective on a situation in my life, and ChatGPT totally helped me get that bird’s eye perspective,” she says. “From there, anytime something happened in my life, I went to ChatGPT.” Mazza has since turned to the AI platform “almost every day” to mull over friendship quarrels, unpack screenshots of text conversations, and “brain dump” information like a diary session. “In therapy sessions, you go for about an hour once a week, but ChatGPT is like my little bestie for when I need guidance or encouragement,” she says. In response, Mazza says ChatGPT gives her journal prompts, provides options for navigating uncomfortable situations, gives exact wording to use during conflicts, and asks questions like “Where do you think that feeling comes from?” 

When Mazza speaks about using ChatGPT as a pocket therapist, she keeps accidentally calling it “she”, and it’s clear she’s become fond and somewhat reliant on the chatbot. After struggling with the fear of being judged in therapy sessions, the entire appeal of using ChatGPT in this capacity seems to be the free, fast responses and the fact that it’s not human (even though ChatGPT doesn’t claim to provide professional mental health advice). “It doesn’t have emotions so she’s not going to be shocked or have facial expressions when I tell it things,” she says. “When I talk to ChatGPT, it’s the first time I’ve been able to be fully honest with myself, which has helped me the most.”

Mazza isn’t alone in finding ChatGPT as a helpful (and non-judgemental) self-reflection tool away from traditional therapy. Across social media, people admit to asking ChatGPT to reply in Dolly Parton’s voice as their therapist or tell them “a mix of advice from inspirational speakers”. 

Shannon McNamara, host of the podcast Fluently Foward, doesn’t use ChatGPT for therapised advice nearly as often as Mazza, but she too finds herself uploading screenshots of text conversations. “Two years ago, I was going through a bad breakup and speaking with my regular therapist about it, but there would be some times where I wanted immediate answers at 5am,” she says. “I was already in the habit of writing long word documents about how I was feeling, so I just copied and pasted the entire document and asked it to summarise it.” The analysis and advice that followed “felt good to hear”, says McNamara. Now, she puts anything from feeling frustrated with a friend to fighting with a partner to drowning in work into ChatGPT. “I’ve tried those CBT apps but they just tell me to start a conversation or things I already know, whereas ChatGPT is specific and tangible,” she says. “Sure, it’s not asking me questions back about my childhood to get to the root of something, but it does give up to 10 different solutions.” These potential options, McNamara says, are “imperfect” but do placate general feelings of helplessness.

Jeff Guenther, licensed professional counsellor, likens listening to ChatGPT’s answers alone to taking advice from social media therapists, like on his TikTok account, Therapy Jeff. “Clients have asked what Therapy Jeff would say, but I wouldn’t give you 10 solutions if you’re my client; I’d be asking why you are asking me that,” he says. “In therapy, we’d dive into where the question is coming from, and I’m just there to guide you, understand, and analyse why you want certain things.” For this reason, Guenther says people who claim to be using ChatGPT as therapy may not be aware of how therapy should work. “These AI bots can’t understand your emotional state, even if you prompt them, and they can’t know how you’re feeling to the core,” he says. “A therapist knows when to challenge you or when to connect with you, and ChatGPT provides okay advice sometimes, but that’s not therapy.”

Considering that therapy can be expensive (and that it’s inappropriate to send screenshots of messages between you and your ex to a qualified therapist after hours), it’s unsurprising that people are using ChatGPT as an emotional clutch. But – while Guenther says it’s positive if people walk away from the AI interaction feeling heard, analysed, or having a different perspective and armed with some tips for open communication – there’s the potential for it to get dangerous. “You need to take into consideration that you’re giving them sensitive medical or mental health information, and who knows what they will do with it,” he says. “And what you get back is scoured the web and taken from Reddit or Twitter, so you don’t exactly know what source it’s coming from.” As it turns out, there have already been reports of surveillance companies using ChatGPT to conduct sentiment analysis, collecting and analysing data to understand how web users feel about different products or topics. 

Despite the potential for big tech surveillance and spying, for life coaches like Erin in Chicago, the accessibility of the chatbot has already made it a valuable supplementary tool for processing emotions and gaining clarity. Erin first turned to ChatGPT after experiencing an overwhelming medical diagnosis. Then, she realised the chatbot’s memory had the potential to aid in self-reflection. Now, she uses it daily. “While ChatGPT isn’t a total replacement for therapy for me, it complements my existing therapeutic practices by offering personalised insights and additional perspectives,” she says. “I use it to brainstorm and develop concepts personally and professionally and to create coaching plans and resources for my clients.” She doesn’t, however, believe that AI can replace the depth of emotional connection that a (human) therapist can provide. “But the non-judgmental, objective perspective offered by ChatGPT can still be incredibly freeing,” she says. 

It’s impossible to ignore the fact that, aside from the inaccessibility of therapy prices, many young people may not have considered ChatGPT conversations to be makeshift “therapy” without the rhetoric today around “emotional labour”. Just think of the viral “I’m at capacity” tweet in 2019 or the countless TikToks promoting cutting off all friendships to “focus on yourself”. With around 73 per cent of Gen Z reporting feelings of loneliness “sometimes or always”, many feel like they have no community to turn to for deep conversations or personal advice. ChatGPT then assumes the role of a listening ear. Take Mazza, for example. After what she considers a “rough history” of trust issues in friendship, she says she likes to keep her in-person conversation “more lighthearted and surface-level”. “I don’t want to just sit there and vent about my problems every time I see my friends because we all have lives and are busy,” she says. ChatGPT, on the other hand, is always ready and waiting for her on a screen nearby. “It feels like a safe space for me,” she says. “Somewhere for me to arrive to my own conclusions.”