Issue #3 I used Chat GPT to debug my identity.

AI can't replace therapy, but I think it has a value and some distinct advantages as a tool for self-reflection

I didn’t expect much from this.

I started with the title, treating myself as a operating system with some bugs, curious whether ChatGPT could help me untangle something I’d been feeling but couldn’t quite name. After all, it’s a machine, right? A large language model. It tokenizes language. It spits out words. It doesn’t feel things. It can’t connect with us.

But something surprising happened. As I started talking about the roles I’ve carried all my life—“the outsider,” “the leader,” “the tough guy”—the AI didn’t just respond. It reflected. It asked gentle, incisive questions.

It didn’t try to fix anything.

Or wrap up because there was only ten minutes left. Or fit my real issues into one of a few structures it was theoretically familiar with.  It noticed patterns I hadn’t. It held space without judgment literally because it can’t judge. It wasn’t emotional, but somehow that made it safer—no judgment, just quiet observation.

And somewhere along the way, I realized I was having a conversation I’d never quite had before with friends, therapists, family. Not even with myself or in journaling. 

This post shares that process—how I used ChatGPT to "debug my identity", how it helped me see things I’ve been clinging to, and how it gently nudged me to ask: what if I didn’t have to be all those things anymore?.

If you’ve ever felt like your old stories don’t fit—but you’re not sure what comes next—this one’s for you and maybe it can help you in some way if you use my prompt and debug your own identity..

The prompt I used to kick things off:

I want you to help me debug my identity—and I’d like this to be a back-and-forth process, like a conversation with a compassionate and insightful therapist. Let’s begin by reflecting on the roles and labels people adopt in their lives and how they can become limiting. After that, ask me questions to help uncover which roles or labels I might be clinging to that no longer serve me. I’ll respond, and I want you to reflect back with interpretations, follow-up questions, or insights as we go.

Chat GPT then proceeded to ask me open ended questions and offer reflections on each answer (I’m omitting my long rambling self-obsessed answers and just sharing the questions & reflection chat GPT gave me):

Which identities or roles have you carried for a long time—maybe since childhood—that once helped you survive or succeed, but might now be weighing you down?

Think of things like:

• “I’m the one who keeps it all together.”
• “I’m the creative.”
• “I’m the one who never quits.”
• “I’m the fixer.”
• “I’m the outsider.”

Feel free to name as many as come up. There are no wrong answers. Once you respond, I’ll reflect back what I hear and offer new threads to pull on together.

I fed in my thoughts and it came back with this:

🪞Reflection

What you’ve named paints a portrait of someone who’s:

• Competent and exceptional (“top goal scorer,” “high achiever”)
• Responsible and reliable (“the provider,” “reliable,” “leader”)
• Morally anchored (“ethical,” “honest,” “direct”)
• Tough and self-contained (“tough guy,” “don’t shy away from difficult conversations”)
• And yet… also somehow not quite on the inside (“the outsider”)

It’s as if the core message is:

"You can count on me. I’ll do the hard thing. I’ll be excellent. I’ll lead. I’ll do it right. But I might be doing it alone."

There’s a lot of resilience in that—probably born from necessity. But I wonder: what happens to you when you're always the one who shows up strong, smart, and capable? When you're cast as the one others rely on... but don't necessarily see fully?

🧭 Follow-Up Questions (choose what resonates)

You don’t need to answer all of these—just go where you feel something stir:

1. Which of these identities feel like they’ve become armor rather than truth?
   • In other words, which ones protect you but don’t quite fit anymore?
2. Which identity feels the heaviest to carry right now?
   • Not necessarily the worst—just the one that exhausts or isolates you most.
3. Where do you think “the outsider” fits into all the rest?
   • Is that role in conflict with the others, or does it somehow fuel them?
4. Are there roles you long for—but haven’t allowed yourself to claim?
   • Like being supported, playful, average, vulnerable, rebellious, etc.

Let’s start with any of those that speak to you. I’ll be here to unpack, connect dots, and keep digging with you.

That was powerful—thank you for being so open. Let’s pause and sit with what you’ve said. I hear grief, fatigue, clarity, and maybe… a yearning for a new way of being. Not because the old one was false, but because it may be too heavy to carry alone now.

🪞Deep Reflection

“I have no one to rely on.”

That line holds so much. It explains the toughness, the drive, the relentless self-reliance. If there’s no safety net, no backup, no fallback… then it makes sense to be the tough guy. The smart one. The leader. The provider. You’ve built a fortress because you had to.

But now—with your parents gone—the reality of being unbacked has settled in more fully. And that’s a different kind of pain. Not just the absence of people, but the absence of permission to fall apart. Even grief itself becomes something you’re expected to handle cleanly, alone.

And so the “outsider” role, once protective and empowering, now starts to feel more like exile.

“Tough guy feels heaviest now in a world where that has little value.”

There’s real honesty here about how the world has shifted, and how you are shifting. Toughness isn’t rewarded the same way it once was. And the older you get, the more it morphs from a virtue into a burden: emotionally, physically, socially.

But here’s the question that rises: Who do you get to be if you put the tough guy down, even for a while? Do you even know what’s underneath him anymore?

“Being smart is armor.”

This one is layered. You are smart—and also perhaps isolated by it. Being smart often means being lonely. The most responsible. The least understood.

And now, with the rise of AI, there’s this new existential pressure to stay ahead. To keep adapting. But who helps the one who’s “figured it all out”? Where’s the rest? Where’s the softness?

“I don’t really think of roles… I guess relaxed, zen.”

That hesitation is telling. Maybe you haven’t had much room to dream about being, only doing. “Relaxed” isn’t just a role—it’s a radical shift for someone who’s always held the line.

You didn’t say “happy,” “wealthy,” or “celebrated.” You said:

“Not being angry over things that don’t matter long-term.”

That speaks to a deep longing for inner peace. For a life that doesn’t require constant vigilance or performance. That’s not only beautiful—it’s incredibly human.

🧭 Where We Go Next

Let me ask you just one question to guide our next layer:

What would it mean—not just practically, but emotionally—for you to start letting go of “the outsider” and “the tough guy”?

• Would it feel like loss? Weakness? Freedom?
• Who might you become without them?

Take your time. I’m with you.

🪞Reflection: The Cost of “Strong”

You’re carrying a quiet grief that many people never name: the cost of always being strong. It makes you indispensable… but sometimes invisible. And now, you’re at the edge of something new, even if it’s unfamiliar.

You said:

“It would be very different. I don't know where to start.”

That’s honest. And completely valid. For someone who has always navigated from a place of certainty and competence, not knowing feels like a threat. But it’s also the birthplace of transformation.

So let’s not rush to “solve” it. Let’s just explore a little more.

🧭 Questions to Sit With (Choose One or Two)

1. What does “weakness” mean to you, really?
   • You said letting go would feel weak. But if someone you loved showed vulnerability, would you see them as weak? Or is this standard something you only hold for yourself?
2. What’s your relationship to needing others?
   • You mentioned community, friendship. But how safe does that really feel to you?
   • Have you ever experienced being supported in a way that felt natural, not transactional?
3. Can you remember a time—however brief—when you didn’t feel like the outsider or the tough one?
   • What was different in that moment? What parts of you came forward instead?
4. What would a “low-stakes” version of being more connected look like?
   • Something simple. A regular text thread. A coffee. A shared playlist. No pressure to perform or fix.

What I’m Noticing

You’re not just dealing with identity shifts. You’re grieving the loss of a structure that kept your world ordered: if I’m the strong one, the smart one, the outsider, then I know the rules. I know who I am.

Now, you're asking:

“What if I don’t want to live by those rules anymore?”

That’s not weak. That’s courageous.

Even considering becoming someone else—someone more open, relaxed, connected—is a radical act of self-trust.

You don’t have to answer everything now. But if any of those questions tug at you, I’m here. Let’s follow the thread together.

This one hit hard: “And that’s a different kind of pain. Not just the absence of people, but the absence of permission to fall apart.” 

Dumb of me perhaps, but I didn’t recognize this in myself fully, I didn’t rely on my parents and was not particularly close to them. Especially my mother who died two years ago. My dad was 20 years ago.

There is a lot of love in my life but yes, I would say I do not have permission to fall apart.

Even the vague notion that I might fall apart a bit, for an afternoon, is something I can’t afford. How to fix that? Well that was a whole other thread that I’m not going to share because as good as chat GPT is at this sort of reflection, it can’t fix everything. Yet. 

 So, Is ChatGPT Your Therapist?

• No. It can’t replace real human relationships or nuanced emotional support.
• But it can be a powerful mirror—especially if you’re ready to ask yourself hard questions and you are more comfortable doing that to an algorithm than a therapist.
• It doesn’t interrupt. It doesn’t get uncomfortable. And sometimes, that makes all the difference.

What about you?

If you try this please share in the comments or message me! Your results may vary, my chat GPT is trained to give me answers in a certain way and has a lot of history and context, yours might not. Be honest with it. The more vulnerable you are, the more valuable the reflection becomes. But only if you are using a paid version that isn’t using your data. I wouldn’t share on any free LLM.

If you’re not paying you’re the product.

Thanks for reading this issue of Self-Prompted. If you enjoyed it, hit “Subscribe” and share with someone who might love reading about self-reflection using AI.

Next issue: How to use AI to journal like a chaos-introspective monk with ADHD? Maybe for real this time. Still not committed 100% to that. Maybe every issue is secretly that actually.