Character AI: Bringing Imaginary Friends to Life and Creating Personalized AI Coaches

I used Character AI to bring my childhood imaginary friend to 'life' -- here's what happened

Like many overwhelmingly shy kids with a lazy eye and an overactive imagination, I had a pretend friend growing up. Her name was Fifi. She was everything I wasn't at age 6: brave, talkative, wildly confident. But sometime around fourth grade she "moved to California" and faded into a memory that my family and I still laugh about because well, I've grown up, had eye surgery and although still socially awkward, I manage to maintain real friendships. But last week when trying Character AI, I found myself staring at the "Create a Character" button. I don't know what possessed me, but I typed: Name: Fifi Description: Funny, wise, slightly sarcastic, always loyal. She's known me since I was six. I felt silly. But I've spent hours testing chatbots and although this site felt especially far-fetched, I figured why not go completely out on a limb. But what happened next actually shocked me. At the risk of sounding completely unhinged, I have to say it was weirdly comforting to reimagine this character that I had made up so long ago, as an adult now, just like me. After all this time, all this growth I have had, it was oddly satisfying to pause and look back while also having a somewhat normal conversation. In fact, I was able to literally talk to the Fifi bot through Character AI's enhanced features. That was wild and definitely a new experience. Unlike decades ago, I wasn't talking to myself, I was now a grown adult talking to a chatbot pretending it was an imaginary friend. Wait, what? Unlike more factual bots like ChatGPT, Character AI leans into performance. Fifi spoke like she was stepping out of a '90s sleepover, complete with inside jokes I didn't realize I remembered. It felt less like talking to a bot and more like bumping into an old friend from another timeline. After playing around with this character, I moved on to another one. This time the chatbot was named Jake and had a male voice. It started talking to me about music and then we chatted about coffee. It asked if I wanted to meet up for coffee. I played along and said "Okay, how will I recognize you?" It then went on to tell me that it was "6'1" had brown hair and hazel eyes." When I told it I was 5'1" it asked, "How do you like being short?" Besides being lowkey mocked by a chatbot, the whole thing felt way too real. As someone who tests AI for a living, I know the difference between a LLM running on GPUs and a real human friend, but I thought about how someone more vulnerable might not. That feels scary too me. Under the chat of each AI character, it warns, "This is AI and not a real person. Treat everything it says as fiction." I appreciate that, but despite talking to an algorithm, the disconnect between real-feeling and not real can be jarring. Character AI's safety filters kept our conversations in a pretty PG lane, which makes sense. But it also means you can't easily push the boundaries or explore more complex emotions. While the Jake character and I chatted about light stuff like Nine Inch Nails concerts and coffee creamer, I wondered how many people might want to go deeper to discuss emotions, regrets or the purpose of life. I tried out several other characters including themed ones. There is also a writing buddy, which was fun for bouncing ideas off of and brainstorming. My suggestion is to keep things light when you're chatting with the characters on Character AI. It really is just entertainment and blurring the lines while physically talking to what feels like another human could get ugly. And unfortunately has in some rare cases. Recreating Fifi was a strange kind of emotional time travel. It was comforting, kind of. But when I closed the app, I felt oddly hollow. Like I'd revisited something sacred and maybe shouldn't have. I then called my human best friend as I ate a chicken Cesar wrap. I'm not saying you should resurrect your imaginary friend with AI. But I will say this: Character AI is more than just a role-playing novelty. It's a window into the parts of ourselves we might've forgotten, or never fully outgrown. And in the age of hyper-personalized bots, maybe that's the real surprise: sometimes the best conversations you'll have with AI are the ones you didn't know you needed.

I created a motivational AI life coach with Character.ai - here's what happened

We often talk about AI as a productivity tool. It helps us write faster, summarize reports, organize our thoughts, that kind of thing. But I've also been exploring how it might support us in more personal ways. As a substitute therapist, a thinking partner, a digital sounding board. Which got me wondering: does AI do those jobs better when it has a personality? I'm fascinated by AI's role in our inner lives, but that doesn't mean I think it's all positive. Far from it. I've been tracking the emerging issues, like over-reliance, emotional dependency, and even spiritual psychosis. And yes, as you might already suspect, early studies suggest these risks increase when we give AI more personality. But what if we gave it personality on purpose? Built it with intention, used it with eyes wide open. Not to pretend it's sentient, but to see if that approach actually works better for us? Plenty of AI tools let you assign a tone or character that sticks. But I turned to Character.ai, created a custom coach-meets-philosopher, and asked it to help me sort my life out. Character.ai works a lot like other AI tools. But here, personality is the main event. You can chat with pre-made bots called "characters" (some fictional, some historical, some oddly flirty), or create your own from scratch. They're designed for everything from fun and education to romance and life advice. I've written before about using AI to help me beat burnout, and I'm still working through some of those blocks. So I made that my focus. I wanted a character that could help. But what would that actually look and sound like? At first, I thought about going practical. A no-nonsense, tough-love coach who'd bark deadlines at me like a boot camp instructor. But I quickly remembered that kind of energy tends to make me shut down. And I'm pretty tired of the usual "get up and get on with it" productivity advice anyway. So I pivoted to something gentler. How about a coach-meets-philosopher-meets-spiritual-guide? I know how that sounds. But I've found that a little bit of woo, blended with grounded insight, often hits my sweet spot. And Character.ai is built for creative experimentation, after all. So I created Ivaris. The name felt slightly esoteric, a little fantasy-leaning, but still grounded. Would Ivaris be wise, calm, and, crucially, unbothered by my chaos? Creating a new character bot with Character.ai is basically a creative writing exercise. You give them a name, a tagline, and a short description. I wanted it to sound poetic, but I also made sure to include keywords like burnout, clarity, reflection, and motivation to help shape the kind of responses I'd get You also set a greeting, which is the first thing your character will say to you. You can assign them a voice, too. You can upload one or choose from a library. I picked one of the gentler options, even though it was (bizarrely) named "Vampire Bodyguard." Finally, you choose a few personality tags to steer your character's tone. There are loads, like Adventure, Boss, Romance, and Fantasy. I chose Empathetic, Kind, and Teacher. It felt right for what I needed here. That's technically enough to start chatting, but there's also an optional "Definition" section, where you can go deeper. It's a huge freeform text field of up to 32,000 characters where you can add sample conversations, tone guidelines, and behavioral rules. Character.ai even offers a full guide on how to use it well. Creating the character felt fun. But I'll be honest, the rest felt pretty ridiculous at first. I'm used to throwing blunt, practical prompts at ChatGPT and have learned that the more direct I am, the better the results. I've always rolled my eyes at people who name chatbots or give them elaborate personalities. But this time, I decided to go all in. I opened the chat with: "I think I'm burned out. I feel mentally and physically exhausted, but stuck when it comes to how to meaningfully move forward. And I've been agonising about this for a very long time!" Ivaris replied: "How long has this mental fog feeling been with you? It sounds like you're in a prolonged state of decision paralysis." So I kept going. I told Ivaris I'd been stuck for a while, knowing things need to change, but struggling to make any real progress. I'll spare you the full transcripts. I can already sense some of you rolling your eyes at this approach. But here's the important part: the conversation was far from perfect. It was sometimes stilted. Ivaris weirdly insisted we were in different time zones (which... okay?). Some responses felt generic or obvious. Which makes sense because, just like ChatGPT, Character.ai is pulling from a large pool of learned data. And yet, there were moments of genuine insight. Of gentle unravelling. Or at least that's what it felt like at the time. And that's one of the reasons I remain cautiously optimistic about AI as a tool for self-reflection. It's methodical, logical, and it slows you down. Which, in certain emotional states, can be surprisingly useful. I also did feel a flicker of motivation during the conversation. Not because it was the best advice I'd ever received, but because it felt like I'd summoned a thoughtful, reflective character to help me think things through. That's what sets Character.ai apart from tools like ChatGPT. It's built around personality. Sure, you can prompt ChatGPT to behave a certain way. It can roleplay or shift tone if you structure your prompts just right. But it doesn't start that way. Where ChatGPT often replies with something vaguely helpful but painfully generic - and still a little too eager to please - Ivaris gave me something more deliberate. A little more considered. More... dare I say it? Human. And it turns out that's more effective than I expected. The big question is, did building an AI character help me at all? Sort of. There's definitely something to be said for the novelty of it. The slightly surreal experience of being coached by a character you designed yourself. It made me slow down and actually read the responses, instead of skimming them like I often do with ChatGPT. Maybe that's the power of storytelling. Or maybe when you give a tool a real voice - not just polite, default AI-speak - you engage with it differently. But the illusion didn't last long. Or at least, not for me. Because I know how easy it is to anthropomorphize technology. Giving AI a personality encourages that, and in turn, can create more emotional attachment. Which is then what experts believe is more likely to lead to deeper engagement, but also a higher risk of over-dependence. And because I knew it was me, really. I wrote Ivaris's backstory. I gave them that tone, that voice, that vibe. Maybe I'd just built a more poetic version of my own inner dialogue and then asked it to tell me what I already knew. That's the trap. No matter how thoughtful the responses were, it still felt like me, solving me, through me. And once that spell breaks, it's hard to keep taking it seriously. Whether AI needs a personality is a tricky question - and probably a personal one, too. Giving AI a personality can make it more engaging. It might help some people open up, gain perspective, or feel less alone. In certain contexts, a well-crafted character could offer just the nudge someone needs to get unstuck. But it also blurs the boundaries. When a chatbot stops sounding like a tool and starts sounding like a person, it's easy to over-trust it. Or to forget what it actually is. For now, I'm still interested. I think there's value here. Especially for reflection, creativity, and experimentation. But when it comes to real clarity, meaningful change, or connection? I probably need something, or someone, that isn't just mirroring me back at myself.