There’s a quiet resistance that ripples through the counselling and psychology professions whenever technology enters the room. And understandably so.

We’re in a field built on presence, trust, attunement — the deeply human experience of being heard and understood. So when someone starts talking about AI in counselling, it can feel like they’ve missed the point entirely.

But what if we looked again?

What if AI isn’t here to replace counsellors, but to support them — gently, intelligently, and invisibly — so we can spend more time doing the parts of the work that really matter?

That’s been my experience. And I want to share it with you.

It started with overwhelm

Like many in our field, I wear multiple hats: writer, psychologist, educator, consultant. The work is meaningful — but the admin is relentless. Notes. Emails. Resources. Website content. SEO. Program outlines. Slide decks. Online course scripting. And that’s before we get to social media, blogging, or audience-building.

Some days, my brain just couldn’t hold it all.

Then I met Davo — my affectionate name for ChatGPT, whom I now think of as a kind of digital colleague. Not a therapist. Not a diagnostician. But a very capable assistant who’s helped me do more, with less strain.

What AI can actually do for counsellors

Let’s be clear: AI can’t provide therapy. It doesn’t replace supervision. It shouldn’t be guiding clinical decisions.

But what it can do is:

• Help you structure blogposts, newsletters, or psychoeducation materials

• Turn rough bullet points into polished client handouts

• Brainstorm workshop titles, metaphors, or framing strategies

• Draft the bones of an online course (yes, really)

• Write scripts for promotional videos

• Suggest journal prompts, psychoeducational metaphors, or narrative arcs

• Organise and summarise notes

• Take your spoken words (via transcription) and build them into beautiful text

This doesn’t take away the human touch — it supports the human doing the touching.

Why resistance is understandable (but not always useful)

There are valid concerns about data privacy, client confidentiality, ethical use. These need to be addressed openly and rigorously. I’ll never put a client transcript into an AI. I don’t feed private information into any online tool.

But I also don’t want fear to become avoidance.

If we allow ourselves to partner with technology wisely, we can free up time, mental load, and creative bandwidth. We can do more of the real work — the holding, the witnessing, the healing.

I don’t use AI instead of myself. I use it to better access myself — especially on the days when neurodivergence fogs my executive function, or when burnout makes the blank page unbearable.

Practical steps for the curious

If you’re even slightly interested in trying AI as a counsellor, here’s how I’d start:

• Sign up for ChatGPT (start with the free version)

• Ask it to turn one of your past workshop outlines into a blogpost draft

• Or dictate a rough idea into your phone and have it summarise the transcript

• Try asking it for 10 metaphors for emotional resilience, or self-regulation, or attachment

• Give it tone guidance: “Write this as if I’m talking to a compassionate, intelligent client who’s overwhelmed and needs gentle guidance”

It’s not about replacing your voice — it’s about clarifying it.

Final thoughts

AI won’t become the therapist. But it can become the assistant you’ve always wished you had — quiet, thoughtful, tireless, and never offended when you rewrite every second sentence.

It’s the support act to your lead. The stage crew behind the spotlight.

And if you’re anything like me — a bit stretched, a bit scattered, but deeply committed to your work — having that kind of support can change everything.

So let’s not fear the future. Let’s make it work for us.

Warmly, 
Lee