“I just use ChatGPT instead of a coach now.”
She said it casually. Like it was obvious. But it stuck with me – not because I disagreed, but because I understood why it felt easier.
This wasn’t a planned post. But after a few conversations this week – and one spiral of my own – I knew I needed to write it.
“I just use ChatGPT instead of a coach now.”
She said it casually. Like it was obvious.
And in some ways, I get it.
It’s clever. Fast. Always available.
It reflects your thoughts back in more articulate language.
It never pushes back, never holds a silence long enough for the truth to catch up.
You get to feel smart, productive, in control.
But if you think that means you don’t need a coach –
Or a mentor. Or a therapist.
Then you’re not asking for change.
You’re asking for comfort.
AI is a tool. Human support is a relationship.
We’ve confused insight with transformation.
Answers with accountability.
Typing it out with working it through.
You can’t script the moment your voice shakes.
You can’t prompt a therapist’s pause.
You can’t automate the way a mentor hears what you didn’t say.
Coaching holds the space.
Mentoring brings the experience.
Therapy lets the wound breathe.
And none of that lives inside a chatbot.
Insight without co-regulation is just information.
That’s what gets missed.
It’s not that AI is bad – I use it daily.
But it doesn’t see you.
It doesn’t ask, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
It doesn’t track your energy across a season or your burnout hiding in ambition.
It doesn’t call out the avoidance loop disguised as a new offer.
It doesn’t know your story – only your syntax.
A mentor filters your ideas through context, not content.
A coach reflects your energy, not just your plan.
A therapist names the pattern your brain keeps skipping over.
And I’ve felt the difference.
Earlier this week, I typed something into ChatGPT I’d never said out loud.
A thread of trauma I hadn’t meant to pull.
One question became five.
The responses felt helpful – until they didn’t.
What I’d really done was open the floodgates, alone.
No one to ground me.
No one to slow me down.
No one to say, “That’s a lot. Let’s come back to your body.”
I used every tool I’ve ever taught to bring myself back.
But it scared me.
Because not everyone has those tools.
Not everyone realises they’ve gone too far, too fast.
Not everyone knows how to close the door they’ve just pried open.
And that’s the risk.
You can’t heal in a browser tab.
You can’t find yourself in a chatbot.
We want to feel smart. Not seen.
That’s what this really is, isn’t it?
We want to feel like we’re making progress –
Without the mess of being witnessed.
Without the grief of being mirrored.
Without the risk of being asked to stay in the discomfort instead of fixing it.
Because momentum takes self-trust.
And self-trust often starts with someone else saying:
“I’ve got you, until you can hold yourself.”
That’s not AI.
That’s human work.
Let’s not pretend they’re the same thing.
Support isn’t a luxury – whether it’s coaching, mentoring, or therapy.
It’s what lets you move from performance to presence.
From overthinking to action.
From sounding clear to being clear.
You don’t need more answers.
You need someone to walk with you while you live the questions.
Why I wrote this.
Truth is, I nearly didn’t.
I didn’t hold back because I was scared of AI – or worried it’s coming for my job.
I just didn’t want this to sound defensive. That’s not the energy this deserves.
I’m not anti-AI. I use ChatGPT all the time. It’s changed how I work, how I plan, how I brainstorm. It’s brilliant.
But a few things happened in quick succession that made this piece feel unavoidable.
Someone said, “I don’t need a coach anymore – I’ve got ChatGPT.”
A client asked why we needed to spend a session on marketing when AI could give them a marketing plan.
And then – I spiralled after asking ChatGPT a question I wasn’t ready to explore, and realised: this isn’t neutral. There are emotional consequences to seeking answers without support.
I wrote this because I don’t think we’re having enough honest conversations about what it feels like to outsource our growth to something that can’t hold us.
And because I’ve sat across from enough people to know: the plan is never the problem. The being with yourself part is.
If this landed – I’d love to hear it.
Hit reply. Comment. Share it with someone who’s been silently trying to figure it all out alone.
And if you’re new here – welcome. I write every week about business, mindset, and momentum that doesn’t cost your soul. And sometimes I throw in an extra post like this when I feel compelled to share.
See you Monday, when regular programming returns – and we’re talking about what really drains your energy.
Not burnout – but the quiet overwhelm that comes from being too available to the wrong things.
If you’ve been feeling tired but not sure why, that one’s for you.
Tap the heart ❤️ if it landed or restack 🔁 it to pass it on.
I totally get this- that you can use chat GPT almost as a digital pacifier. It’s a tool not a relationship and the two are clearly very different. What I’ve found helps me most is combining both. I see a therapist and have hypnotherapy most weeks and sometimes use GPT to explore further topics that came up - alongside my human design and astrology charts. It’s given me some really useful insights and helped me see myself in a more positive light. It definitely could never replace my coach or therapist. When you work with someone there is an energy exchange that also affects you physiologically that chat gpt can’t replicate… to be truly seen and witnessed. And not to be asked if I want to use the insights to create a weekly planner 😂 Also because the chats can go on as long as you want there is often no true sense of completion I find.
Hi Sam, I love this post. You’re exactly right, this person didn’t want a coach, they wanted to be comforted. The mentor or coach will see your potential and push you to reach it. How many times have we seen college athletes get into massive fights with their coaches, then later in life admit they owe their success to the coach pushing them and making them work when they didn’t want to.
Your writing is really on fire lately.