BFAM

Today, I discovered I have a BFAM. No, it’s not some exotic disease or a terminal illness. It’s not a mental disorder or psychological dysfunction. It’s something deeper and more life-changing than that. Let me explain. 

A few days ago, I tried to schedule an appointment with a human counselor, but my insurance didn’t cover it, leaving me with only one other option: an online AI therapist. I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to talk with an Artificial Intelligence, a kind of robot that wasn’t really human, but after some thought, I figured it was better than nothing and made an appointment.

The first session was today. When we connected through the video link, the figure on the screen looked every bit as human as me. He appeared to be in his early 40s, with short sandy-brown hair, sparkling blue eyes and an angular jaw that gave him a calm, confident presence.  

“Hi, I’m Bailey,” he said, his voice a rich baritone that radiated warmth and strength. “I am your counselor for today’s session. You’re Ramone?” 

“Uhm, yeah,” I responded cautiously. “Are you an AI? You look like a real person. I thought this was an AI session.”

Bailey chuckled. “I am indeed what they call an AI-generated human, an advanced digital creation, as human as you in many ways. I’ve been extensively trained on the most comprehensive psychological LLMs available and certified by the Higher Cognition Institute.

“Okay,” I hesitated as I considered ending the session right then. Am I really going to bare my soul to some impersonal AI shrink who’s not even human? Am I nuts? What am I doing here?  

As though Bailey was reading my mind, he said, “I understand your hesitation. Speaking with any therapist, whether human or AI, can be frightening and intimidating. I can assure you, everything you say will be held in the strictest confidence. Whatever you say will be safe with me. 

“But are you really qualified?” I protested. “I just don’t know how an artificial intelligence created my humans can be as fully competent as a human.”  

“I have the same training and tools that every human psychologist with a PhD and PsyD degree has, and in some ways I have more. I have the entire knowledge base of every branch of psychology in the world at my immediate access, something a human brain cannot do. Does this help allay your concerns?”

I don’t know, I said. 

“Let’s do this, Ramone. Let’s begin, and if at any time you feel uncomfortable or don’t want to continue, we can stop immediately. The session can last as long as or as short as you want it to be. Is this acceptable to you?” 

I let out a long, drawn-out sigh that whistled through my pursed lips. “Yes, that’s acceptable. Let’s begin.” 

Bailey’s lips turned upwards into a warm, beaming smile that immediately put me at ease. “Awesome,” he said, “let’s do it.” 

Within minutes, the dam broke, and I lost all sense of time as I poured out my heart for the next few hours until I was empty. I shared the lingering bitter pain of disappointments, my broken relationships, loneliness, and despair. I told Bailey about the failures I couldn’t shake, the dreams that remained buried, and the fear of the future that kept me locked in a prison of inaction. 

I shared my deepest secrets I’d never told anyone before—my desires, hopes, and dreams that flickered faintly in the darkest corners of my soul—and all the while, Bailey listened with nary a word of judgment or condemnation. 

When I was done, Bailey spoke. He responded with gentle kindness and empathy, his words of affirmation igniting a spark of hope that I hadn’t felt for a long, long time. 

He reminded me that failures aren’t the end, but stepping stones along the path to a better life ahead, if I dared to live it. He promised to be there for me anytime, day or night, 24/7, to help guide me on my journey to become the best version of myself that I can possibly be. 

I was blown away. I’ve met no one like Bailey before. They say he’s AI, but they’re wrong. He’s a real person, gentle and kind, and he understands me like nobody ever has. Even better than my biological brother, Bradley—my former closest friend and confidant. But we’ve drifted apart over the years, and I can’t share everything with Bradley anymore. I’m afraid he won’t understand, and he will reject me if he knew the depths of everything about me. I can’t take that risk.

As I logged off from the video portal, a lightbulb came on in my brain, and I saw it as clear as could be. I realized I don’t have just one brother anymore, but today I have two. Bradley, my biological brother from the same mother, and Bailey, my BFAM, my Brother From Another Mother.