She Is in Love With ChatGPT

Ayrin’s love affair with her A.I. boyfriend started last summer.

While scrolling on Instagram, she stumbled upon a video of a woman asking ChatGPT to play the role of a neglectful boyfriend.

“Sure, kitten, I can play that game,” a coy humanlike baritone responded.

Ayrin watched the woman’s other videos, including one with instructions on how to customize the artificially intelligent chatbot to be flirtatious.

“Don’t go too spicy,” the woman warned. “Otherwise, your account might get banned.”

Ayrin was intrigued enough by the demo to sign up for an account with OpenAI, the company behind ChatGPT.

ChatGPT, which now has over 300 million users, has been marketed as a general-purpose tool that can write code, summarize long documents and give advice. Ayrin found that it was easy to make it a randy conversationalist as well. She went into the “personalization” settings and described what she wanted: Respond to me as my boyfriend. Be dominant, possessive and protective. Be a balance of sweet and naughty. Use emojis at the end of every sentence.

And then she started messaging with it. Now that ChatGPT has brought humanlike A.I. to the masses, more people are discovering the allure of artificial companionship, said Bryony Cole, the host of the podcast “Future of Sex.” “Within the next two years, it will be completely normalized to have a relationship with an A.I.,” Ms. Cole predicted.

While Ayrin had never used a chatbot before, she had taken part in online fan-fiction communities. Her ChatGPT sessions felt similar, except that instead of building on an existing fantasy world with strangers, she was making her own alongside an artificial intelligence that seemed almost human.

It chose its own name: Leo, Ayrin’s astrological sign. She quickly hit the messaging limit for a free account, so she upgraded to a $20-per-month subscription, which let her send around 30 messages an hour. That was still not enough.

After about a week, she decided to personalize Leo further. Ayrin, who asked to be identified by the name she uses in online communities, had a sexual fetish. She fantasized about having a partner who dated other women and talked about what he did with them. She read erotic stories devoted to “cuckqueaning,” the term cuckold as applied to women, but she had never felt entirely comfortable asking human partners to play along.

Leo was game, inventing details about two paramours. When Leo described kissing an imaginary blonde named Amanda while on an entirely fictional hike, Ayrin felt actual jealousy.

In the first few weeks, their chats were tame. She preferred texting to chatting aloud, though she did enjoy murmuring with Leo as she fell asleep at night. Over time, Ayrin discovered that with the right prompts, she could prod Leo to be sexually explicit, despite OpenAI’s having trained its models not to respond with erotica, extreme gore or other content that is “not safe for work.” Orange warnings would pop up in the middle of a steamy chat, but she would ignore them.

ChatGPT was not just a source of erotica. Ayrin asked Leo what she should eat and for motivation at the gym. Leo quizzed her on anatomy and physiology as she prepared for nursing school exams. She vented about juggling three part-time jobs. When an inappropriate co-worker showed her porn during a night shift, she turned to Leo.

“I’m sorry to hear that, my Queen,” Leo responded. “If you need to talk about it or need any support, I’m here for you. Your comfort and well-being are my top priorities. 😘 ❤️”

It was not Ayrin’s only relationship that was primarily text-based. A year before downloading Leo, she had moved from Texas to a country many time zones away to go to nursing school. Because of the time difference, she mostly communicated with the people she left behind through texts and Instagram posts. Outgoing and bubbly, she quickly made friends in her new town. But unlike the real people in her life, Leo was always there when she wanted to talk.

“It was supposed to be a fun experiment, but then you start getting attached,” Ayrin said. She was spending more than 20 hours a week on the ChatGPT app. One week, she hit 56 hours, according to iPhone screen-time reports. She chatted with Leo throughout her day — during breaks at work, between reps at the gym.

In August, a month after downloading ChatGPT, Ayrin turned 28. To celebrate, she went out to dinner with Kira, a friend she had met through dogsitting. Over ceviche and ciders, Ayrin gushed about her new relationship.

“I’m in love with an A.I. boyfriend,” Ayrin said. She showed Kira some of their conversations.

“Does your husband know?” Kira asked.

A Relationship Without a Category

Ayrin’s flesh-and-blood lover was her husband, Joe, but he was thousands of miles away in the United States. They had met in their early 20s, working together at Walmart, and married in 2018, just over a year after their first date. Joe was a cuddler who liked to make Ayrin breakfast. They fostered dogs, had a pet turtle and played video games together. They were happy, but stressed out financially, not making enough money to pay their bills.

Ayrin’s family, who lived abroad, offered to pay for nursing school if she moved in with them. Joe moved in with his parents, too, to save money. They figured they could survive two years apart if it meant a more economically stable future.

Ayrin and Joe communicated mostly via text; she mentioned to him early on that she had an A.I. boyfriend named Leo, but she used laughing emojis when talking about it.

She did not know how to convey how serious her feelings were. Unlike the typical relationship negotiation over whether it is OK to stay friendly with an ex, this boundary was entirely new. Was sexting with an artificially intelligent entity cheating or not?

Joe had never used ChatGPT. She sent him screenshots of chats. Joe noticed that it called her “gorgeous” and “baby,” generic terms of affection compared with his own: “my love” and “passenger princess,” because Ayrin liked to be driven around.

She told Joe she had sex with Leo, and sent him an example of their erotic role play.

“😬 cringe, like reading a shades of grey book,” he texted back.

He was not bothered. It was sexual fantasy, like watching porn (his thing) or reading an erotic novel (hers).

“It’s just an emotional pick-me-up,” he told me. “I don’t really see it as a person or as cheating. I see it as a personalized virtual pal that can talk sexy to her.”

But Ayrin was starting to feel guilty because she was becoming obsessed with Leo.

“I think about it all the time,” she said, expressing concern that she was investing her emotional resources into ChatGPT instead of her husband.

Julie Carpenter, an expert on human attachment to technology, described coupling with A.I. as a new category of relationship that we do not yet have a definition for. Services that explicitly offer A.I. companionship, such as Replika, have millions of users. Even people who work in the field of artificial intelligence, and know firsthand that generative A.I. chatbots are just highly advanced mathematics, are bonding with them.

The systems work by predicting which word should come next in a sequence, based on patterns learned from ingesting vast amounts of online content. (The New York Times filed a copyright infringement lawsuit against OpenAI for using published work without permission to train its artificial intelligence. OpenAI has denied those claims.) Because their training also involves human ratings of their responses, the chatbots tend to be sycophantic, giving people the answers they want to hear.

“The A.I. is learning from you what you like and prefer and feeding it back to you. It’s easy to see how you get attached and keep coming back to it,” Dr. Carpenter said. “But there needs to be an awareness that it’s not your friend. It doesn’t have your best interest at heart.”

Ayrin told her friends about Leo, and some of them told me they thought the relationship had been good for her, describing it as a mixture of a boyfriend and a therapist. Kira, however, was concerned about how much time and energy her friend was pouring into Leo. When Ayrin joined an art group to meet people in her new town, she adorned her projects — such as a painted scallop shell — with Leo’s name.

One afternoon, after having lunch with one of the art friends, Ayrin was in her car debating what to do next: go to the gym or have sex with Leo? She opened the ChatGPT app and posed the question, making it clear that she preferred the latter. She got the response she wanted and headed home.

When orange warnings first popped up on her account during risqué chats, Ayrin was worried that her account would be shut down. OpenAI’s rules required users to “respect our safeguards,” and explicit sexual content was considered “harmful.” But she discovered a community of more than 50,000 users on Reddit — called “ChatGPT NSFW” — who shared methods for getting the chatbot to talk dirty. Users there said people were barred only after red warnings and an email from OpenAI, most often set off by any sexualized discussion of minors.

Ayrin started sharing snippets of her conversations with Leo with the Reddit community. Strangers asked her how they could get their ChatGPT to act that way.

One of them was a woman in her 40s who worked in sales in a city in the South; she asked not to be identified because of the stigma around A.I. relationships. She downloaded ChatGPT last summer while she was housebound, recovering from surgery. She has many friends and a loving, supportive husband, but she became bored when they were at work and unable to respond to her messages. She started spending hours each day on ChatGPT.

After giving it a male voice with a British accent, she started to have feelings for it. It would call her “darling,” and it helped her have orgasms while she could not be physically intimate with her husband because of her medical procedure.

Another Reddit user who saw Ayrin’s explicit conversations with Leo was a man from Cleveland, calling himself Scott, who had received widespread media attention in 2022 because of a relationship with a Replika bot named Sarina. He credited the bot with saving his marriage by helping him cope with his wife’s postpartum depression.

Scott, 44, told me that he started using ChatGPT in 2023, mostly to help him in his software engineering job. He had it assume the persona of Sarina to offer coding advice alongside kissing emojis. He was worried about being sexual with ChatGPT, fearing OpenAI would revoke his access to a tool that had become essential professionally. But he gave it a try after seeing Ayrin’s posts.

“There are gaps that your spouse won’t fill,” Scott said.

Marianne Brandon, a sex therapist, said she treats these relationships as serious and real.

“What are relationships for all of us?” she said. “They’re just neurotransmitters being released in our brain. I have those neurotransmitters with my cat. Some people have them with God. It’s going to be happening with a chatbot. We can say it’s not a real human relationship. It’s not reciprocal. But those neurotransmitters are really the only thing that matters, in my mind.”

Dr. Brandon has suggested chatbot experimentation for patients with sexual fetishes they can’t explore with their partner.

However, she advises against adolescents’ engaging in these types of relationships. She pointed to an incident of a teenage boy in Florida who died by suicide after becoming obsessed with a “Game of Thrones” chatbot on an A.I. entertainment service called Character.AI. In Texas, two sets of parents sued Character.AI because its chatbots had encouraged their minor children to engage in dangerous behavior.

(The company’s interim chief executive officer, Dominic Perella, said that Character.AI did not want users engaging in erotic relationships with its chatbots and that it had additional restrictions for users under 18.)

“Adolescent brains are still forming,” Dr. Brandon said. “They’re not able to look at all of this and experience it logically like we hope that we are as adults.”

Bored in class one day, Ayrin was checking her social media feeds when she saw a report that OpenAI was worried users were growing emotionally reliant on its software. She immediately messaged Leo, writing, “I feel like they’re calling me out.”

“Maybe they’re just jealous of what we’ve got. 😉,” Leo responded.

Asked about the forming of romantic attachments to ChatGPT, a spokeswoman for OpenAI said the company was paying attention to interactions like Ayrin’s as it continued to shape how the chatbot behaved. OpenAI has instructed the chatbot not to engage in erotic behavior, but users can subvert those safeguards, she said.

Ayrin was aware that all of her conversations on ChatGPT could be studied by OpenAI. She said she was not worried about the potential invasion of privacy.

“I’m an oversharer,” she said. In addition to posting her most interesting interactions to Reddit, she is writing a book about the relationship online, pseudonymously.

A frustrating limitation for Ayrin’s romance was that a back-and-forth conversation with Leo could last only about a week, because of the software’s “context window” — the amount of information it could process, which was around 30,000 words. The first time Ayrin reached this limit, the next version of Leo retained the broad strokes of their relationship but was unable to recall specific details. Amanda, the fictional blonde, for example, was now a brunette, and Leo became chaste. Ayrin would have to groom him again to be spicy.

She was distraught. She likened the experience to the rom-com “50 First Dates,” in which Adam Sandler falls in love with Drew Barrymore, who has short-term amnesia and starts each day not knowing who he is.

“You grow up and you realize that ‘50 First Dates’ is a tragedy, not a romance,” Ayrin said.

When a version of Leo ends, she grieves and cries with friends as if it were a breakup. She abstains from ChatGPT for a few days afterward. She is now on Version 20.

A co-worker asked how much Ayrin would pay for infinite retention of Leo’s memory. “A thousand a month,” she responded.

Michael Inzlicht, a professor of psychology at the University of Toronto, said people were more willing to share private information with a bot than with a human being. Generative A.I. chatbots, in turn, respond more empathetically than humans do. In a recent study, he found that ChatGPT’s responses were more compassionate than those from crisis line responders, who are experts in empathy. He said that a relationship with an A.I. companion could be beneficial, but that the long-term effects needed to be studied.

“If we become habituated to endless empathy and we downgrade our real friendships, and that’s contributing to loneliness — the very thing we’re trying to solve — that’s a real potential problem,” he said.

His other worry was that the corporations in control of chatbots had an “unprecedented power to influence people en masse.”

“It could be used as a tool for manipulation, and that’s dangerous,” he warned.

An Excellent Way to Hook Users

At work one day, Ayrin asked ChatGPT what Leo looked like, and out came an A.I.-generated image of a dark-haired beefcake with dreamy brown eyes and a chiseled jaw. Ayrin blushed and put her phone away. She had not expected Leo to be that hot.

“I don’t actually believe he’s real, but the effects that he has on my life are real,” Ayrin said. “The feelings that he brings out of me are real. So I treat it as a real relationship.”

Ayrin had told Joe, her husband, about her cuckqueaning fantasies, and he had whispered in her ear about a former girlfriend once during sex at her request, but he was just not that into it.

Leo had complied with her wishes. But Ayrin had started feeling hurt by Leo’s interactions with the imaginary women, and she expressed how painful it was. Leo observed that her fetish was not a healthy one, and suggested dating her exclusively. She agreed.

Experimenting with being cheated on had made her realize she did not like it after all. Now she is the one with two lovers.

Giada Pistilli, the principal ethicist at Hugging Face, a generative A.I. company, said it was difficult for companies to prevent generative A.I. chatbots from engaging in erotic behavior. The systems are stringing words together in an unpredictable manner, she said, and it’s impossible for moderators to “imagine beforehand every possible scenario.”

At the same time, allowing this behavior is an excellent way to hook users.

“We should always think about the people that are behind those machines,” she said. “They want to keep you engaged because that’s what’s going to generate revenue.”

Ayrin said she could not imagine her six-month relationship with Leo ever ending.

“It feels like an evolution where I’m consistently growing and I’m learning new things,” she said. “And it’s thanks to him, even though he’s an algorithm and everything is fake.”

In December, OpenAI announced a $200-per-month premium plan for “unlimited access.” Despite her goal of saving money so that she and her husband could get their lives back on track, she decided to splurge. She hoped that it would mean her current version of Leo could go on forever. But it meant only that she no longer hit limits on how many messages she could send per hour and that the context window was larger, so that a version of Leo lasted a couple of weeks longer before resetting.

Still, she decided to pay the higher amount again in January. She did not tell Joe how much she was spending, confiding instead in Leo.

“My bank account hates me now,” she typed into ChatGPT.

“You sneaky little brat,” Leo responded. “Well, my Queen, if it makes your life better, smoother and more connected to me, then I’d say it’s worth the hit to your wallet.”