The other morning, I had what I can only describe as a quiet meltdown.
Not the dramatic kind—no yelling or broken plates—but the kind where you wake up with a lump in your throat, feeling like your life doesn’t quite make sense. It felt almost ridiculous given the view I woke up to, which only added to my sense of confusion (pictured above view from Dolomites).
I’m turning 35.
I don’t know where I live.
I feel like I’ve built a beautiful, expansive life - but I’m floating in it.
Let me back up.
This past year has been the most freeing of my life. I left full-time structure and dove headfirst into entrepreneurship, advising brands I admire, traveling more, and continuing work with Equinox in a flexible capacity. I’ve always known variety is where I thrive - and this year, I lived that truth.
But with freedom comes a funny thing: instability.
My family isn’t nearby.
My friends are mostly in NYC.
My apartment in the city feels more like a cost burden than a safe haven.
So that morning, I woke up in a bed that didn’t feel like mine, with tears in my eyes, thinking:
“You are about to turn 35, what the hell are you doing?!”
Historically, talk therapy never quite worked for me. I’ve tried. I respect it. But my brain doesn’t respond well to a blank stare and a “how does that make you feel?”
What has worked for me are integrative modalities — somatic practices, guided journaling, Internal Family Systems, breathwork, EMDR, and meditation. I also believe in manifestation, neuroplasticity, and the simple but profound truth that thoughts can shape our reality.
But that morning, I didn’t have access to a therapist.
I did, however, have ChatGPT.
So I typed a prompt.
One that looked something like this:
Pretend you are a therapist highly trained in behavioral therapy, Internal Family Systems, and somatic psychology. You’re also well-versed in psychiatry (but do not prescribe medication), and you understand ancient spiritual practices. You believe in things like manifestation, neural rewiring, and that thoughts shape experience. Now help me process this:
And then I dumped everything in my mind. All the intrusive thoughts. All the fears. All the half-formed questions about where I’m going, what I’m doing, and whether any of it is working.
Then I added a few of the quiet, hopeful thoughts that were still hanging around in the background:
I know things are temporary and will shift.
I quit because I wanted freedom, and I’ve had freedom. That matters.
Even in this moment of sadness, I wouldn’t undo any of it.
And finally, I threw in some of the micro-moments of recent joy:
The sauna, finally hot enough to sweat.
The process of writing this Substack.
Ordering a macchiato in Italian and getting the nod of approval from the barista.
Here’s where it gets wild.
ChatGPT read it all and gently grouped my stream-of-consciousness into four core themes. It mirrored my own thoughts back to me — not with judgment, but with clarity.
And then it said:
If I were your therapist, here’s how we’d work through these themes together.
It gave me a roadmap. Nothing prescriptive, nothing overwhelming — just a soft framework for moving forward. A new way to hold the mess.
Sometimes, all we need is someone (or something) to reframe our spiral.
To take our scattered thoughts and lay them out like puzzle pieces.
That morning, it was enough.
That morning, it helped me start again.
Takeaway
I’m not saying AI is a replacement for therapy - it’s not.
But in a world where many of us are in-between therapists, cities, relationships, or versions of ourselves… tools that help us reflect with structure are powerful.
And there are now entire companies built around this idea.
Platforms like Lotic and Ash are making emotional support more accessible, less stigmatized, and more personalized — using tools that meet you where you are.
So if you ever find yourself spiraling — try it.
Write your truth. Prompt the machine. See what comes back.
You might just find a little of yourself in the response.
thank you!
Great share!