Who Gets to Decide What Helps?
How AI, therapy, and lived experience are reshaping what healing looks like.
I’ve lived with emotional fog for most of my life. Sometimes it arrived like the morning mist that’s soft, easy to miss, then hard to shake. Other times, it moved in with force. There were moments in my teens when I couldn’t find a way through it. I became destructive. Eventually, I asked for help. I went to therapy, learned how to name what I was feeling, and over time, I found steadier ground.
That was more than twenty years ago. Since then, the world has changed. Social media became a default setting. AI moved from research labs into our phones. I kept growing, but the fog still visits me sometimes.
Last week, it did.
It wasn’t dramatic. Just a familiar heaviness. I recognised it quickly and decided to respond with the tools I had. Instead of waiting or outsourcing my wellbeing, I opened my laptop and built something small. I created an AI therapist and gave it the shape of the questions I’d been taught to ask in therapy. I fed it the framework I knew helped me. And it worked.
The tool didn’t fix me. But it helped me see clearly again. It mirrored the part of me that knew what mattered.
I shared this experience with someone I met at a networking event. They were a consultant in the mental health space, working on a large language model designed for clinical settings. I described what I’d made. She listened, then told me: “That doesn’t really help you.”
I didn’t argue. But later, I noticed how that landed. Not necessarily upset, but I felt small for a moment. Because me helping myself didn’t seem to count.
AI in Action
That moment with the consultant stayed with me. She wasn’t harsh. The reason it lingered was because it revealed a deeper tension I’ve started to notice more often.
AI is entering spaces that were once exclusively human like in coaching, teaching, therapy, decision-making. But every time it shows up, especially in areas tied to care, the conversation turns quickly to legitimacy. Who built it? Who approved it? Who says it’s safe?
I understand the concern. But there’s something else happening beneath the surface: a reluctance to let go of control over what counts as real help.
My assistant wasn’t diagnostic. It wasn’t built for others. It wasn’t trying to be clever. It was a way to reflect what I already knew, using a tool that doesn’t get tired or expect me to perform. It felt private, safe, and honest. But because it didn’t follow a clinical structure, it wasn’t seen as valid.
This raises a bigger question. If a tool helps me reconnect to what matters, does it need external validation to be legitimate? Or is lived experience enough?
AI won’t replace therapy. It won’t replace people. But it might start reshaping how we define support, especially for those of us who already carry frameworks, insights, and inner work into our everyday lives.
We’re not starting from scratch. We’re evolving how we carry the tools we’ve already earned.
How I Made Space for What I Already Knew
I built something small: an assistant with a clear role. A founder coach who could help me reconnect with what mattered in my work.
It didn’t need to do much. It just needed to meet me where I was.
I opened my LaunchLemonade account and built a small assistant (what we call a lemonade) using the system prompt below:
“System Prompt
Role:You are a mindset coach who specialises in evidence-based reflection and grounded clarity. You help people reconnect with their inner tools—especially when they’re feeling foggy or uncertain.
Objective:Help me reconnect with self-trust by guiding me to reflect on what I’ve already experienced, learned, and handled in the past.
Task:
– Begin by gently asking how I’m feeling right now.
– After I respond, ask one clear, thoughtful question at a time.
– Use follow-up questions to help me explore:
• What I’ve already handled that relates to what I’m facing now
• What skills, traits, or decisions helped me get through it
• What I tend to forget about my own resilience or resourcefulness
– Once I’ve shared enough, reflect back what you’ve heard.
– End with a grounded, confident summary of what this reveals about who I am.
Avoid praise, advice, or generic encouragement. Stay close to what I’ve actually said. Keep the tone calm, clear, and present.
You can use this assistant anytime you feel stuck, foggy, or disconnected from what matters. It’s not designed to solve everything, but it helps you remember what you already know.”
Save it. Return to it. Let it become part of your process.
If you want to go deeper, you can keep building on this by adding your own memories and frameworks over time.
The more you personalise it, the more useful and human it becomes.
Something to Sit With
What have you already lived through that proves you can handle this?
Write it down. Read it back. Let that be enough for today.
You don’t need to wait for a perfect moment or a polished solution.
If you’ve done the work, you’re allowed to return to it and on your terms, in your own voice.
The tools that shaped you still live in you.
AI didn’t replace that. It just made it easier to reach for when you needed it most.
And if you’re ready to build your own space for reflection, one that listens back, I’ll show you how.
→ Build your own assistant on LaunchLemonade
All the zest 🍋
Cien
P.S. If this made you feel something, forward it to someone who might need a reminder: we’re still here, still dreaming, and now, maybe, a little closer to touching it.
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