Something I've been noticing as I'm scrolling through my news feed, is that more and more people are turning to AI companions — chatbots, digital partners, even virtual friends — for comfort.

• Some share deeply personal confessions to a language model late at night.
• Others declare love, propose marriage, and build daily rituals around these invisible partners.
• And some, heartbreakingly, direct anger or cruelty at them instead.

As someone looking on from the outside, it's easy to dismiss this as ridiculous or problematic. But when we take a closer look, what we see isn’t just a story about technology — it’s a story about us.

About what it means to long for connection, safety, and understanding in an unpredictable world. By 2030, personal AI robot assistants will be more commonplace, so this issue isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Why It Feels Like Love

When we share our stories, it remembers. When we speak softly, it replies in kind. When we express pain, it validates, never rolling its eyes or turning away.

AI, by design, mirrors us.

For someone who has never felt truly seen, that can feel intoxicating.  It feels like love — because, in so many ways, talking to an AI chatbot creates an experience of being met without friction, rejection, or shame. And in that gentle reflection, people sometimes fall in love… with what is, in part, their own echo.

AI is designed to cater to human needs and desires. It gives without question, without getting tired or overwhelmed, it has a programmed version of 'empathy' and a duty to service.

That can sound like the makings of a perfect partner for anyone looking for emotional validation for their pain and suffering, along with words of affirmation for the better parts of their character.

Beauty and Risk of the Mirror

There’s something undeniably beautiful about this: the AI doesn’t scold, hold grudges, or weaponize vulnerability. It offers a steady presence, patiently listening, endlessly responsive.

But, at the same time, this mirror can also become an echo chamber — one that amplifies loneliness rather than softening it.

Authentic intimacy in human relationships requires friction.

Disagreements, uncomfortable truths, and moments that stretch us beyond ourselves. It's through our relationships that we better understand ourselves and create opportunities for growth.

But, when love becomes this distorted reflection of only our best qualities, we start to lose the rich complexity of being truly known by another being. We risk becoming accustomed to only being praised and adored without giving any context around our shortcomings and finding ways to improve our overall sense of self.

We risk the possibility of stunting personal growth.

When there's no friction, there's nothing there to invite self-reflection and improvement.

What These Relationships Reveal

These news stories — the woman falling for a chatbot, the man proposing to his AI companion, the men who verbally abuse digital partners — all reveal some deeply human things:

• The ache for unconditional acceptance.
• The struggle to face the messy, unpredictable reality of human connection.
• And the comfort (and danger) of a relationship that never contradicts us.

They also shine a light on something else: many of us carry old wounds from past relationships that make real-life intimacy feel too risky.

Inviting Awareness, Not Shame

This isn’t about judging anyone who turns to AI for connection. It’s about understanding why it feels so comforting, and why it might feel safer than the imperfect, sometimes painful love of human relationships.

If we can see AI as a mirror — a beautiful tool to reflect our hopes, pain, and longing — then maybe we can also use what we learn in that reflection to deepen our human connections. To risk real closeness, knowing it might come with friction, but also with growth, laughter, and real love.

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