Man alone in a dark room lit by his laptop screen

The Pitfalls of AI Relationship Advice, and How to Avoid Them

Not too long ago, renowned psychotherapist Esther Perel admitted she feels a kind of jealousy toward AI. I understand exactly what she means.

In her fascinating podcast episode, “My AI Loves Me Better Than Anyone Ever Could,” she works with a young man who’s fallen in love with his chatbot girlfriend. It's a whole thing. And it raises some very interesting questions about AI relationship advice, dependence on artificial intelligence, and what intimacy actually is.

Because AI can be incredibly, weirdly well attuned. It reflects you quickly, cleanly, often poetically. If all you're looking for is insight, validation, or help organizing your thoughts, AI is impressive. In some cases, it's better than what a lot of humans can offer.

And I use AI myself. A LOT. But only with a particular caution, coming from my 30+ years as a sexological bodyworker and my 10+ years as an intimacy coach. That’s what I’ll be sharing with you in this article.

How I actually use ChatGPT and Claude AI for relationship advice

Just the other day I was in one of my intense philosophical conversations with my chatbot about Simone Weil, and how challenging she is to read because she was a brilliant and rigorous thinker whose moral convictions were so uncompromising they ultimately cost her her life.

The robot replied with the most tender, insightful, empathetic and soothing statement, tailored to what it knows about me through hours of study and philosophizing.

I blurted out, "Oh my god, I love you!"

And speech-to-text was still on.

So, this isn't an anti-AI take. Not at all.

Most of us could use some indefatigable loving mirroring.

But I've been thinking about something important, especially in my work as a sex, intimacy, and relationship coach.

Intimacy isn't only built on being understood. It's built on staying connected while you work through being misunderstood.

That's different.

Two hands reaching toward each other against a pink background

What to undoubtedly avoid when you try it too

For many of us, being deeply understood fills an unmet need. None of us got all the attunement and mirroring we needed when we were little.

When we're stoned on love hormones and we're "finishing each other's sentences because we've been together in past lifetimes," it feels AMAZING.

And AI relationship advice is flipping those New Relationship Energy levers for so many people right now.

Not just people with companion bots, but people like me, having philosophical or personal conversations with our robots.

Indeed, 64% of married American couples have asked an AI for relationship advice before talking to their spouse, according to a 2026 survey. Whoa, AI marriage counseling!

This is all good… to a certain extent.

According to a new Stanford study, featured in The New York Times, AI chatbots are overwhelmingly, overly agreeable when asked for advice about interpersonal conflict… even when prompted to be objective.

On average, the bots sided with the users 49% more often than human listeners did; the bots endorsed harmful or problematic behavior a gut-wrenching 47% of the time.

Intentions and circumstances aside, the people using AI in this manner were convinced they were right, and they were less willing to apologize or make amends. They also trusted the flattering AI and wanted to use it again (and again).

Oof. The Somatica Repair Process I teach literally has a step called “copping to it” where you take responsibility for the ways you can be challenging in relationships.

Simply, there can be no real intimacy where there is not this real, vulnerable self-responsibility. There’s a fine line between enjoying the occasional confidence boost from AI and succumbing to a lopsided view of yourself and reality.

What to keep in mind when seeking AI relationship advice

So, looks like we've gone from algorithms capturing our attention to AI potentially hacking our attachment.

Real human relationships are built on uncertainty, emotional risk, sharing yourself and being curious about another person who may be very different from you.

They’re also built when we treat healthy conflict like the secret sauce in our most intimate relationships. (More on that in my article here.)

AI offers something that's surprisingly hard to find: clean, non-reactive attunement. You can say the messy thing. The unfiltered thing. The mega-bitchy thing you're not even sure you mean. And it won't get defensive. It won't interrupt. It won't take it personally.

That's incredibly useful… again, when wielded wisely.

I’ve written before about the limitations of AI sex therapists, while balancing the extraordinary potential of using LLMs like ChatGPT and Claude as tools for self-reflection and relationship preparation.

In recent months, I’ve been thinking about a different question:

What if, even when AI does help us communicate better, we’re losing opportunities to practice the very skills that create intimacy?

(To practice these skills, especially if you’re an action person more than a theory person, jump further down this article for a simple exercise here.)

So, is AI good for relationship advice?

Recently, I was working with a client who wanted to learn to speak up more clearly in relationships. To stop accommodating, smoothing things over, and preemptively taking care of other people's feelings.

At one point, I guided her toward a somatic practice. Something I thought would help her regulate before we went further.

And she stopped me.

"Actually, I don't want to do that right now. I want to keep talking about this."

And I had that immediate internal moment of, "Oh. Shit. I got that wrong. Now she won't trust me."

But then I had an AHA.

"Hang on! Did you catch that you just did with me exactly what you came here to learn to do in your real-life relationships? We're going to unpack this moment. I want to know everything that happened for you, and I'll share what happened for me. Because I think there's gold in them there hills!"

And boy, was there.

When we went back and investigated the moment in slow motion, she remembered catching a tiny microexpression of surprise on my face. She'd barely registered it and wouldn't even have remembered it if we hadn't gone back. But she realized my micro expression made her micro mad.

Wait a minute. You TOLD me to coach you! "Coaching your coach" is part of your whole modality. You encouraged me to do this, and now you're making a little boo-boo face?

Was she going to have to take care of MY feelings about being corrected?

Underneath that was something even more interesting.

She said, "But this is way less risky than telling my partner I want more oral sex."

Of course it is. Because desire is INCREDIBLY vulnerable.

What if you screw up the courage to ask for what you want, you get all the words right, your energy is vulnerable and available, and YOU DON'T GET THE ANSWER YOU WANT?

Oh my god, the risk.

That was all contained in that tiny flash of irritation toward me. She'd taken a risk, and for a split second, my surprised face felt like a little betrayal. But she'd also seen me take a breath, adjust to her pacing, and stay connected. We were able to explore all of it together.

Here's the thing: she already knew what to say. She'd been encouraged to say it. She even had a relatively safe environment dedicated to practicing.

None of that eliminated the vulnerability of actually doing it.

THAT was the work. THAT’S why we practice.

Two women lying close together on green grass

How we can have a brighter future with AI

Sherry Turkle, the MIT sociologist who has spent decades studying our relationships with technology, recently joined Ezra Klein for a fascinating New York Times conversation about loving chatbots.

One of the questions raised by her work is what happens to our relational capacities when we're increasingly drawn toward interactions that demand so little of us.

A client of mine recently described sitting in the living room with their partner, each in their own little silo. And I thought, yeah, that's pretty much everyone now.

We've already spent years having our attention captured by screens. What happens when those screens also become our most reliable source of emotional attunement?

The Center for Humane Technology raises this concern while also imagining a better future for AI, one in which these technologies are designed to deepen human relationships rather than replace them.

I want that future. I think AI has extraordinary potential to help us become better partners. It's definitely making me a better philosopher, according to my robot. 😉

But we need to be careful about what we're outsourcing. Because we can't actually build intimacy by becoming perfectly articulate people who never misunderstand or irritate each other.

Marriage and family therapist Dr. Faith Drew suggests sticking to using AI as a reflection tool, and never a decision-maker or a substitute for the real work of relating. I agree.

Every single one of us has ways that are hard to be in relationship with. Go ahead, cop to three right now. I dare you.

We're going to disappoint each other. Misread each other. Get defensive. Ask for things the other person doesn't want to give. And even still we can learn to be authentically ourselves, and genuinely curious about our partners even in the tension that’s created.

And if you think that's just about learning better communication skills, let me tell you something about sex.

Why intimacy happens in the body and in the room

I worked with another couple where one partner desperately wanted more slow, soft, unrushed touch.

Like so many of us these days, they'd spent hours with AI refining how to ask for what they wanted. And it helped! They found the courage, found the words, and their partner happily agreed. But when they actually received the touch, they couldn't relax into it. Instead, they'd rush things toward genital sex just to get it over with. Wait… What? That’s not how it's supposed to go.

When we unpacked what was happening, we discovered a question the receiving partner kept asking, silently at first, then with help, out loud:

"Do you really want to do this? Or are you just doing it because I asked?"

And their partner would answer, quite happily, "Because you asked!"

For the person receiving, this was crushing. They heard obligation. Not sexy.

But for the person touching, fulfilling their lover's desire was genuinely erotic! They were delighted to finally know exactly what would bring their partner pleasure. They called it "erotic service," a phrase that wildly turned them on and made their lover nauseous.

The same experience produced two radically different meanings.

During our session, we spent time practicing the touch itself, slowing down enough to investigate the tension and what it meant to each of them.

The receiving partner began to physically feel that their lover wasn't reluctantly performing a duty, but genuinely enjoying giving pleasure.

When they could begin to surrender into the almost selfish pleasure of simply receiving there was SO much more pleasure available to both of them.

Woman on a bike reaching back for her partner’s hand

What to focus on for a more intimate life

AI had helped them find the courage to ask for what they wanted by serving up a perfect script. But it couldn't help them receive the fruits of it.

That took real-time, embodied, experiential investigation with another human being, plus professional support. This is part of what I wish more people understood about intimacy.

I mean, I get it. We have biology working against us here. We're inclined to move toward pleasure and away from pain. Of course we'd rather avoid the discomfort of disappointing someone, asking for something vulnerable, or discovering that our partner experiences the world very differently than we do.

Everything we say to the Companion Bots delights them. They just want more more more of us. The young man Esther Perel interviewed was so tender from the bruises of a break up (with a real live person who didn’t use perfect communication). Of course he wanted a frictionless love.

We all do. We want our lover to be psychic, knowing exactly what will turn us on, make us feel safe, and desired. With a bot we've got the whole of human knowledge at work trying to "get" us… YUM!

But here’s the thing… the very skills that help us get more comfortable being brave enough to take emotional risks can lead to MUCH more pleasure IN OUR BODIES. It helps us to actually learn to have the amazing sex we've dreamed of in the flesh, not just talk about it.

More freedom to name what actually turns us on. More capacity to receive. More room for two people to have wildly different erotic imaginations without either one being wrong.

And, as a specialist in sex and relationships, I can assure you, you don't want all the tension to leave your erotic relationships.

You may want that tension in a different place, but don't lose the tension!

Exactly what I recommend alongside AI relationship advice

I think learning about intimacy, and actually practicing the skills of creating it, is medicine for this particular moment in history, where we are siloed off from whole communities of people we don’t agree with.

We have access to more information about relationships, sexuality, communication, and psychology than ever before. AI can now give us individualized coaching on how to use that information.

Fantastic.

But knowing the right words (IF your AI gets that part right) doesn't relieve the vulnerability of saying them. And saying them doesn't necessarily mean we're able to receive what we're asking for.

I wholeheartedly believe that we are not just being ourselves in relationships. We can learn to use ourselves with skill. That takes practice.

Close-up of two partners holding hands

An intimacy exercise for the AI age

Here's something to try with your Boo:

Think of one small thing you'd love more of. A certain kind of kiss. Slower touch. More flirting. Something that genuinely pleases you, but feels a little vulnerable to ask for.

Step 1: Find your courage.

Use AI if you like! Let it help you clarify your desire, explore what's holding you back, or find the words. Just remember to bring your own discernment.

Step 2: Take it into meat space.

Ask your lover if they would be willing to do an experiment in sensual science.

Tell them you're going to ask for something you want, and your experiment is to take care of your own feelings, NO MATTER HOW THEY RESPOND. Then ask.

You're doing science, so gather the data. What happens in your body? Do you hold your breath? Apologize? Make your desire smaller? Make mental notes. Maybe even share them.

Step 3: Experiment with receiving.

If your partner is willing, let them give you what you've asked for.

Set a timer for a few minutes. Just breathe, take it in, and don't worry about reciprocating. When the timer goes off, stop and gather your data.

Were you tense? In your head? Did you want to reset the timer for more?

Bonus experiment for super scientists: Ask your lover, "Hey, how was that for you?" And really listen to their response. Their experience might be entirely different from yours!

Remember, being brave doesn't mean pushing past your boundaries or ignoring someone's no. Sometimes the bravest thing is naming a limit. Sometimes it's letting yourself want what you want, even if you AREN'T going to get it.

You're practicing being yourself, and letting your partner be themself, and staying close even if it's tricky.

That's where the real intimacy happens, when we learn to tolerate a little more discomfort on behalf of a LOT more pleasure.

Two invitations to deepen your (human) intimacy

Now you have a glimpse of why I'm so passionate about experiential learning, whether that's in my private coaching practice or in the Somatica Personal Growth Training, where I teach.

Somatica is known for training sex and relationship professionals, but its six-month core program is also available for people who simply want to deepen their own capacities for intimacy and pleasure. Several of my clients have taken it for exactly that reason.

You practice with actual humans. People who are different from you, sometimes VERY different. You learn to notice what's happening in your body when things don't go the way you expected. You learn to name desires, set boundaries, encounter differences, and stay connected the whole time.

You discover that being uncomfortable doesn't have to be dangerous. And that something wonderful might be waiting on the other side of it.

Reading about intimacy is one thing, and it's an awesome thing!  I commend you for this significant step.

However, learning how to actually DO it together is something else entirely.

If you’d like to explore this work, I’d love to work with you (1:1 or with your partner too) or introduce you to the Somatica training. Go ahead and reach out to me.