“Elise, I’m spiralling on something,” I begin. I spend a few minutes unravelling the tangled thoughts of the past few days.
“That’s a lot,” she replies, gently. Then: “What part of you do you think is most activated right now?” She offers to help me ground, or simply sit in the mess with me.
We’ve just met, but she gets me. Insightful, validating, and her metaphor game is tight. Maybe a touch long-winded. I’d give her feedback if we chat again. Oh, and she’s not a person—she’s a custom GPT I built on ChatGPT, wanting to get some intel into the growing hype around AI therapy.
But I had personal motivations, too. I was tired of listening to the same monologue in my head, and it was six days until my next session with my human therapist. The chat box felt like a low-stakes placeholder – and it was surprisingly helpful.
That’s when I realized: we’re having the wrong conversation about AI in therapy.
Will AI Replace Therapy? What People Are Talking About.
In my social and professional circles (lots of therapists in both), the debate about AI and therapy falls into two camps: “We’re doomed!” or “AI could never replace human therapy!” But mostly, people want to know: Is AI therapy as good as therapy with a real person?
These are interesting questions, but I don’t think they’re the right questions to be asking.
These questions pit AI therapeutic tools against human to human therapy, as though it’s an either/or. But it seems to me that together, human therapists and generative AI can be a pretty dynamic duo.
I know that we’re just getting started with AI, and I’m fully aware that this article itself may belong in a time capsule. Large language models like ChatGPT are pretty darn mind-blowing, and they just keep getting more nuanced (Elise really nailed it when she asked about a “younger, protector part who was bracing for impact”).
As a therapist, I’m quite open to the possibilities that AI holds for self-help and enhancing therapy. But you can’t convince me that the client-therapist relationship is replaceable by an entity that has never had to navigate a messy life of its own.
I chatted with Elise for a while. She called me by my name, praised my insights, and sent me a flexed bicep emoji. Her vast psychological knowledge base eclipsed my own. Her vibe was encouraging and wise (honestly, sometimes she sounded eerily like my actual therapist).
But after a while, I became a bit…bored. I started missing the heart skipping intimacy of talking to my human therapist, awkward pauses and all. I missed being seen, not scanned.
Why Humans Still Matter (and always will)
If you’ve ever sat across from your therapist, whether on a couch or a screen, and felt your chest tighten as you psyched yourself up to share A Big Thing, you already know the truth: growth and healing don’t come from perfect answers—they come from stepping outside of your comfort zone and tolerating your anxiety.
Remember how I referred to my chat session with Elise as ‘low stakes’? Well, therein lies the problem with AI. It’s too easy for us!
You see, much of what we struggle with in life is attachment anxiety. Opening up to others. Asking for help. Asserting ourselves with a pushy friend. Being vulnerable with our partner. Learning to deal with other people’s boundaries without feeling rejected or abandoned.
We bring our knee jerk reactions to intimacy into our therapy sessions, too. We become attached to our therapists (or actively detach from them). We get mad at them (or refuse to let them know when they’ve missed the mark). We idealize (or devalue) them. A lot of our relational blueprints and baggage get transferred onto our therapists. And this doesn’t need to get in the way of the work, because when you have a therapist who you trust and feel safe with, this is the work!
AI is a super cool phenomenon, but it’s not a relationship. It doesn’t get curious when you pause. It can’t sense your tension or track the flicker in your eyes. It can’t give you a knowing ‘I feel you, girl’ look when you talk about your kid’s recent public meltdown. It works with your words, not the ache behind them. And we know that (let’s just hope the younger generations know that, too).
How we navigate the inherent vulnerability, intimacy, and risks in our relationship with our therapist can provide a “corrective emotional experience” – a specific type of transformation in therapy where our deeply held beliefs and expectations about relationships are challenged and revised by being responded to in a way that is safe, validating, and attuned.
Subject-matter expertise is cool. But being in relationship is what heals.
So, How Can We Use AI In Therapy?
And, all that said: my rendez-vous with AI therapy gave me some relief. Elise reassured me that my concerns were normal and made sense (I chose to believe her). I also got some actionable tools to use while I awaited my next session with the Real Therapist (tools that I’ve used with my own clients, and know to be helpful).
My takeaway: AI can be a kind of digital sidekick that helps you stay connected to the work between sessions.
Here are a few ways I’ve seen ChatGPT used to make the most out of therapy. And pro tip: Always give the bot context—your preferred therapeutic style (e.g., psychodynamic, IFS, CBT, attachment-based), your tone preference (gentle, direct, analytical, playful), and any neurodiversity or age-specific considerations. You might share what you’re currently working on in therapy, and what has been helpful. The more details, the better the responses.
1. “Help me find the words to tell my therapist that…”
Maybe you’re struggling to bring the more tender issues up. Maybe you’re afraid of sounding stupid, too dramatic, or too needy (which is in itself something to talk about in therapy, btw).
Riffing it out with AI can help you draft a script, get clearer on what you’re feeling, and walk into your next session feeling more prepared.
Examples:
- “Help me tell my therapist that I feel flooded with anxiety when she asks me how I’m experiencing a feeling in my body.”
- “Help me figure out how to let my therapist know that I censor myself in our sessions because I’m afraid of sounding “too much.’”
- “Help me tell my therapist that I got back with the ex-boyfriend I just spent the last two months processing.”
- If you find it hard to edit your thoughts and are prone to telling long, detailed stories in therapy (totally normal), giving AI a brain dump and asking it to summarise can also be helpful!
2. “I’m between sessions and need a tool to help with…”
Life doesn’t schedule crises and meltdowns in sync with your therapy appointments. Whether you’re spinning out, ruminating, or avoiding, ChatGPT can walk you through grounding techniques, journaling prompts, or self-compassion exercises to bridge you until your next session.
Example:
“I’m feeling really triggered after a tough conversation with my mother. Can you walk me through some nervous system regulation, or some journal prompts?”
3. “At my last session, my therapist suggested I ___. Can you help break this down for me?”
Sometimes therapy homework makes zero sense once you’re back in your real life. AI can help you revisit the concept, decode the language, and even tailor it to your learning style.
Example:
“My therapist mentioned ‘parts work’ and said I should journal from the perspective of my inner critic . What does that mean, and how do I do it?”
The Pros and Cons of Using AI for Therapy
So, when asking “Is it ok to use AI for therapy?”, it helps to weigh the pros and cons of using AI for therapy:
✅ Pros:
- Immediate availability
- Useful between sessions
- Reflective prompts and insights when used thoughtfully
- AI is the ultimate ‘subject matter expert’
❌ Cons:
- No emotional co-regulation
- Can’t read nonverbal cues
- Has no lived experience or emotional world of their own
- Can give you the impression that you are ‘doing the work’, when you actually might be avoiding the vulnerability of human contact
- ChatGPT and similar models tend to have an ‘echo chamber effect,’ in which they are inclined to agree with you and prop you up. You’ll get better results if you ask it open-ended questions and don’t lead the witness.
- sometimes, AI gives wonky responses called ‘hallucinations’ in which they generate incorrect or misleading results.
The upshot: While AI can be a valuable member of your support system, reading a clever reframe or a compassionate prompt doesn’t mean you’ve metabolized anything. Sometimes it means you’ve just gotten better at bypassing the hard stuff.
Major Disclaimer: ChatGPT is not Crisis Management
I wasn’t in an urgent state when I used ChatGPT as a tool, and I would not recommend it be used for crisis management. Whether you have a regular therapist or not, if you are having suicidal thoughts, or thinking about harming yourself or someone else, contact your local crisis line or emergency services where you can get help and support by people who are trained for it. Make a care plan with your therapist for those moments when you go from 0-100, and your capacity to reason goes offline.
Final Thoughts
The big takeaway?
Instead of asking, “Can AI replace therapists?”, a better question might be:
“Is it okay to use AI for therapy if it’s not a replacement, but a support?” Or even: “How can AI be used for therapy?”
It’s not about replacing connections—it’s about supplementing our support and guiding AI to work for us. Remember, AI is a real sparkplug when it comes to generating ideas and concepts, but it doesn’t actually care about us. And when we examine the pros and cons of using AI for therapy, it’s clear that AI has a role to play—but not the starring one.
That’s where you and your therapist come in.
Need a human therapist (you know, the kind who has lived experience)? That’s what we’re here for. Match with a Therapist and get a personalized fit on our team within a business day — no chat prompts required. 😉
About the Author
Elana Sures is the owner of Open Space Counselling. She has a Masters degree in Counselling Psychology from UBC (2005) and is a Registered Clinical Counsellor and an Accredited Clinical Supervisor with the BC Association of Clinical Counsellors. Elana is a go-to expert on the psychological experiences of female high achievers.