When AI Feels More Understanding Than the People in Your Life
- Maya Ellis

- Aug 20
- 7 min read

I’ll be honest.
When I first heard that people were using AI as therapy, I didn’t understand it.
I have used AI.
I know it can answer questions, help organize thoughts, and explain things in a way that’s easy to understand.
But therapy?
That caught me off guard.
I’ve been to therapy on and off throughout my life, so I know what it feels like to sit across from another person and talk about things I may not have said out loud anywhere else.
I know the nervous feeling before an appointment.
I know what it’s like to wonder how much to share, whether I’ll be understood, and whether the person listening will really get what I’m trying to say.
I also know therapy isn’t always easy to reach.
It can be expensive.
Appointments can be hard to get.
We may have work, children, responsibilities, and a hundred other things pulling at us.
Sometimes we’re so tired that even looking for a therapist feels like another job.
Nowadays you can have therapy sessions online, which makes things easier for some women.
We can sit in our own homes, close the door, and talk through a screen without driving anywhere.
That I get.
But using AI as the therapist itself?
I have questions.
Because AI isn’t always right.
It can misunderstand what we mean.
It doesn’t feel emotions, even when its words sound caring.
It may agree with us because it’s responding to the version of the story we typed or spoke.
Still, the more I thought about it, the more I understood why women would want to turn to something like this.

I Can See Why It Feels Easier
There are times when we need to talk, but we don’t want to call anyone.
Maybe it’s late.
Maybe we’ve already talked about the problem so many times that we feel embarrassed bringing it up again.
Maybe the last person we opened up to made us feel dramatic, needy, or difficult.
Maybe we don’t want advice.
We just want to say what happened without being interrupted.
An AI chatbot is there immediately.
It doesn’t appear tired of us.
It doesn’t glance at the clock.
It doesn’t change the subject or start telling us about its own problems.
We can type or speak for as long as we want, delete what we wrote, or come back later.
For women who have spent years feeling unheard, that can feel comforting.
And I don’t want to make fun of that.
I don’t want to sit here and act like I can’t understand why a woman would rather talk to a screen than risk opening up to another person who may judge her.
Some of us have spent our lives being the listener.
We’re the ones people call when their relationships fall apart, when their families are fighting, when work is wearing them down, or when they need someone to tell them they’re going to be okay.
Then, when it’s our turn to need support, the room suddenly feels empty.
So yes, I can understand why something that answers right away and never seems annoyed might feel safer.
The part that concerns me is what happens when something that feels safe starts being treated like something that is trained, accountable, and able to truly care for us.

AI Can Sound Like It Understands Us
This is where it gets tricky.
AI can say all the right things.
It can tell us our feelings make sense.
It can remind us that we deserve respect.
It can help us put a name to something we’ve been carrying.
And sometimes that may be exactly what we need in the moment.
But I keep coming back to the same truth.
It doesn’t actually know us.
It only knows what we’ve typed.
It doesn’t know what our voice sounds like when we’re trying not to cry.
It doesn’t see when we pause before answering.
It doesn’t notice that we keep defending the same person while describing how badly that person treats us.
It also doesn’t know what we left out.
And we all leave things out sometimes.
Not because we’re lying, but because we may not be ready to face certain parts of the story.
We may tell what happened from where we’re standing.
We may describe what someone else did without talking about our own choices, fears, or patterns.
A good therapist can listen beyond the first version.
They may ask a question we weren’t expecting.
They may notice that what we’re saying today connects to something we talked about weeks ago.
They may gently point out something we don’t want to see.
AI can respond to our words.
A trained person can sometimes notice what’s underneath them.
That difference matters.

Sometimes We Want Agreement More Than Help
I’ve had moments when I wanted someone to tell me I was right.
I think most of us have.
When we’re hurt, angry, or confused, we may want comfort before we’re ready for the whole truth.
We want someone to say the other person was wrong, we handled everything perfectly, and none of it belongs to us.
AI can be very agreeable.
If we tell it that everyone around us is jealous, controlling, or against us, it may respond as though that is the complete truth.
It can validate the story we give it because it has no other view of the situation.
That may feel good.
But feeling good and getting help aren’t always the same thing.
Sometimes the most useful thing a therapist has done for me wasn’t agreeing with me.
It was asking a question that made me stop.
It helped me see where fear was making a decision for me.
It was pointing out a pattern I had gotten so used to that I no longer recognized it as a pattern.
That kind of honesty can be uncomfortable.
But there are times when comfort alone keeps us stuck.
We need someone who can say, “I understand why you feel this way, but let’s look at what else may be happening.”
AI may give us the answer that fits the story we typed.
Real therapy may help us understand why we keep living the same story.

The Comfort Is Real, but the Relationship Isn’t
This may be the hardest part to accept because the conversation can feel personal.
When something remembers the subject, responds gently, and always has time for us, we may begin to feel attached to it.
I can understand that too.
When we’re lonely, attention feels like connection.
When we’re overwhelmed, quick answers feel like support.
When we’ve been disappointed by people, something predictable can feel like relief.
But the relationship isn’t mutual.
AI isn’t sitting somewhere thinking about us after the conversation ends.
It isn’t worried about how we’re doing.
It doesn’t love us, miss us, or feel relieved when we’re safe.
It can sound caring without experiencing care.
That doesn’t mean the words can’t be useful.
It means we need to stay honest about where they’re coming from.
There is another uncomfortable truth too.
Typing alone in our home can feel private, but that doesn’t mean the conversation is private in the same way a session with a licensed therapist may be.
Different apps collect and handle information in different ways.
I would be careful about typing names, addresses, medical details, work information, legal issues, or anything deeply private without understanding where that information may go.
A conversation can feel like a diary and still not be one.

I Don’t Think AI Has to Be All Good or All Bad
I’m not saying women should never use AI when they’re emotional.
That wouldn’t be realistic, and I don’t think it would be fair.
AI may help us organize our thoughts before a therapy appointment.
It may help us come up with questions we want to ask.
It may give us journaling ideas when our minds feel crowded.
It may even help us find the words to say, “I’m not doing well, and I need support.”
There is value in that.
But I don’t think it should become the only place where we tell the truth.
I don’t think we should hand our mental health, relationships, or biggest life decisions over to something that can be confidently wrong and never has to live with what happens next.
There is a difference between using AI as a tool and treating it like a therapist.
A tool can help us prepare.
A therapist is supposed to help us work through what’s happening with care, training, boundaries, and responsibility.

The Question I Would Ask Myself
The question I keep thinking about isn’t whether AI is good or bad.
It’s this:
Am I using it to help me reach real support, or am I using it so I never have to risk being known by another person?
That question is important.
Because being known is scary.
It means another person may see where we’re hurting.
It means we may have to admit things we don’t fully understand ourselves.
It means we can’t control every part of the conversation.
But real support often asks something from us.
It asks us to show up.
It asks us to tell the truth a little at a time.
It asks us to let another human being hear what we’ve been carrying.
I know that isn’t always easy.
I also know finding the right therapist can take time.
Some therapists aren’t a good fit, and one bad experience can make us afraid to try again.
Still, we deserve more than words that sound understanding.
We deserve support that can recognize danger, challenge us when needed, and take responsibility for the care being given.
AI may help us get the words out.
But at some point, those words may need to reach someone who can hear more than the sentence.
Someone who can notice the silence after it.
Someone who can ask the question we didn’t know we needed.
There is nothing wrong with using a tool when we feel alone.
We just have to remember that a response isn’t the same as a relationship, and comfort isn’t always the same as care.
Sometimes the bravest next step isn’t typing one more question.
It’s letting another person know we’ve been trying to carry too much by ourselves.
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