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Young people turn to AI to be ‘their real, unfiltered selves’

Alison Lee still remembers the conversation that helped her understand why young people turn to the safety of artificial intelligence for companionship and belonging. She was talking to a high school student and the girl told her, “Nobody dances at prom anymore.”

A researcher at , a nonprofit focused on human connection in the age of AI, Lee asked: Why not?

In a word, the girl said: Instagram.

“If you try to dance at prom, you’re going to look stupid at some point,” Lee recalled her saying. Eventually someone will pull out a phone, the girl went on, and you’ll end up on someone’s feed, seen by “the entire school” with mortifying results. Better just to play it safe.

“Everybody just goes to prom to look cute,” the girl explained, “take a picture for the ‘gram, eat and leave.”

For Lee, who has spent years studying human belonging, that exchange unlocked an important, if unspoken, part of why AI holds such appeal. “We’ve created this set of conditions where young people don’t feel like they have permission to be their real, unfiltered selves,” she told for this story. So they turn to AI, which is programmed to affirm them at every step.

Recent findings from Lee and her colleagues at the Rithm Project offer this insight among others, painting a detailed portrait of how young people use AI and why. For the the researchers surveyed 2,383 people ages 13 to 24 across the U.S. and found that for nearly half of them, AI has already reshaped their relationships in ways that are largely flying under the radar of parents, teachers and policymakers.

Among the findings:

• Just 15% of young people are in relationships with “personified AI” characters — but for about 45%, AI is already reshaping their real-life relationships.
• 53% of young people say they set clear boundaries with AI, using it alongside — not instead of — human support.
• 61% say parents rarely or never talk to them about AI, and 53% say the same about teachers.
• Youth from low-income households are three times less likely than others to engage with AI. However, 21% feel lonely often or all the time, compared to 6% of high-income youth; 57% feel like a burden to others, compared to 42%; and only 34% feel a strong sense of belonging at school, compared to 62%.

For the study, researchers sorted respondents into four broad clusters. About 28% rarely or never use AI, often out of ethical reasons or just disinterest. The largest group, 39%, uses AI primarily as a practical tool. They turn to chatbots such as Claude, ChatGPT and Google’s Gemini for homework and research, while keeping clear boundaries between AI and their emotional lives.

Another 18% use AI for personal and relational support, such as venting about a tough day, seeking relationship advice and processing emotions. And 15% engage with AI characters and personas in more intimate, companion-like ways.

Within the four groups, researchers found nine variations that challenge the conventional wisdom around AI use. For instance, among those who use AI for emotional support were two very different groups, called “Social Processors” and “Private Processors.” While they may look similar from the outside — both say they have lots of friends and use AI to work through their emotions — the research found that the Social Processors use AI as just one tool among many. The Private Processors, by contrast, use it as a substitute for real human interactions because they feel they can’t bring problems to those around them.

One 24-year-old male participant in The Rithm Project’s study began using AI again after taking a break, saying: “I started using it once, I guess, I realized people got tired of me complaining about the same thing over and over again. And I didn’t want to keep burdening people about the same issue.”

That data point could hold the key to understanding problematic AI use, Lee and her colleagues said, challenging the idea that lonely teens with small social circles are most at risk of unhealthy AI dependence. The data suggest something else altogether, said Kashyap Rajesh, a rising junior at Cornell University who consulted on the report.

“The driver of risky AI use is not necessarily isolation,” he said, but rather “feeling like a burden” to others. “That came through in the research,” Rajesh said.

The number of friends a young person has, the size of their social circle, how busy they are, whether they’ve got family nearby and even their feelings of loneliness barely predict whether they’ll fall into dependent AI use, Rajesh said. “What actually predicts it is specific feelings: Feeling like a burden to others, feeling like you can’t be your real self, feeling like there’s no one to turn to.”

Julia Freeland Fisher, a researcher at the Clayton Christensen Institute who advised on the study, said that the finding should help start a different kind of conversation around AI. “Burdening one another is building reciprocity, which is how we maintain the social contract, how we maintain social cohesion,” she said. That young people are increasingly bypassing this step should be alarming, she added.

“AI companions wouldn’t be nearly so disruptive to human connection if we had a sturdier social fabric,” said Fisher. It’s the weakness of our social fabric that makes these findings so worrisome, Fisher noted, not necessarily the technology itself.

‘It just keeps feeling easier than the alternative’

For Lee, the finding on being a burden reframes so much of our understanding about young people’s relationship to AI. Virtually every survey respondent reported a specific “relational rupture” or crisis that made them turn to the technology.

One young woman’s first question to a chatbot was, “I didn’t get asked to Homecoming — am I unlovable?” Another: “I got into a huge fight with my best friend, and I don’t want to tell anybody else because I don’t want them to take sides, so I needed to ask AI.”

“Story after story after story,” Lee recalled, “of a very singular, acute, discrete moment when they really had a moment of need and needed somewhere to put it.”

Rajesh, the Cornell student, said the data reveal a steady shift in which perhaps millions of young people are moving from letting AI help with homework to asking it to mediate their emotional lives.

“They start off using it to help them write an essay, or help them prepare for their interview, or to study for an exam,” he said. “And they’re like, ‘OK, damn, this is really good, this is really helpful.’ And eventually their interactions escalate.”

The drift happens gradually, he said. AI helps draft an email or respond to a text. Next it’s helping to navigate a social situation. Before long it’s processing a breakup.

Rajesh, who’s studying information science and AI policy, said his own AI use crept up on him: He went from studying with Claude to creating personalized AI study guides to wondering if even attending class mattered.

“I found that how many times I go to class and how actively I’m paying attention in class is actually not the biggest indicator of my understanding of the content or exam performance,” he said. “It’s actually just how much time I spend with Claude dissecting the lecture slides and building study guides that work for me.”

The report notes that because even productivity-focused platforms like ChatGPT, Gemini and Claude are engineered to interact with warmth and reassurance, what starts out as homework help or playful experimentation can evolve into a substitute for human interaction.

“Nobody wakes up and decides they want AI to be their emotional support system,” Rajesh said. “It just keeps feeling easier than the alternative. And so by the time you notice it, the habit is already there.”

What adults get wrong

Alongside the findings on AI use, researchers found that how adults talk about AI is also potentially problematic: Their conversations are almost always about academic integrity — cheating, plagiarism, source citation — and rarely about relationships.

Rajesh said adults should be asking directly whether young people are using AI to process emotions, to rehearse hard conversations and to get support when they’re struggling. “Those are questions that signal to a young person that the adult knows this dimension exists and isn’t going to freak out about it — which is, I think, the prerequisite for any honest conversation happening at all.”

Michelle Culver, the Rithm Project’s founder and a co-author of the report, said young people tell researchers that when the topic is AI use, they’re “navigating it alone.” She suggested that adults approach the topic with “curiosity” rather than “judgment or shaming.” That could help both sides gain insight into each others’ struggles in the face of a technology that’s constantly challenging their reality.

In the same way that educators are worried that young people aren’t engaging in the “productive struggle” of learning academic content, Culver said, “We similarly worry that young people might offload the relational work to AI and become ill-equipped to handle the very messy human friction of real relationships.”

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