‘Found coping mechanism in ChatGPT…’: When healing becomes an act for the feed

“I realised I need me, and for that I gotta be there to be with me, it’s a full-time commitment,” he wrote in a post on Instagram, implying his temporary departure online.

A closer look at his digital presence reveals that this decision was not sudden. Over time, his posts seemed to chronicle an intensely personal journey. What began as fitness updates and routine posts gradually evolved into deeply reflective notes about identity and healing. Social media became a digital journal, documenting a transformation that was as public as it was personal.

Yet, therein lies the paradox.

The fine line between expression and performance

Thakur’s journey speaks to a broader shift in how people conduct themselves, implying that healing is no longer just a private process. It is increasingly a visible, shareable narrative. Social media, once a platform that showcased only “fun” updates, now features carousels of growth, trauma, and self-discovery. While this openness and acceptance can foster community and reduce stigma, it also raises a thought-provoking question. When does healing stop being authentic and start becoming performative?

Siddhesh Khot, a 22-year-old school teacher who turned to self-work after personal trauma, describes healing as a process rooted in consistency and accountability. It is not confined to aesthetically pleasing routines or external validation. “Healing is not a final destination,” he says, “but an ongoing, evolving process.”

How did he achieve that? “My inner-work journey started in 2025. Initially, I resorted to healing videos to comfort myself. But nothing helped. Then, I found another coping mechanism in ChatGPT. I entered prompt after prompt, and AI did manage to emerge as my saviour. But the void was still there. There were answers, not solutions,” he says.

A self pep talk

The lack of humane touch made him look within. “Why am I seeking answers externally when all I need is a pep-talk to myself,” he reflected one day. Psychotherapist Namrata Jain echoes this view, drawing a clear line between inward work and outward display. Genuine self-work, she explains, happens in solitude, when there is no narrative to curate and no one to impress. It is often inconvenient, messy, and uncomfortable. Performative healing, on the other hand, thrives on visibility. It is driven by the need to be perceived as “evolved,” rather than by the deeper need to actually evolve.

Healing vs performative healing (Photo: Magnific)

The social media paradox

In today’s digital ecosystem, healing has, in many ways, become an identity. It is something one can “look like” rather than something one quietly undergoes. The language of therapy, mindfulness, and self-love has entered mainstream discourse, but somewhere, the very purpose of healing is getting overshadowed.

Wellness coach Sailendra S Raane points out that many people adopt the vocabulary and habits of healing without engaging in the difficult inner work it requires. Social media, he suggests, promotes the appearance of calm and awareness rather than the sustained effort needed to build those states internally.

This shift is subtle but significant. “When validation becomes the goal, the process itself is compromised. Healing turns into a checklist of journaling, meditating at sunset, posting affirmations, and activities that may look transformative but risk becoming hollow if disconnected from genuine introspection,” he reaffirms.

True healing, Raane emphasises, is rarely visible. It demands patience, discipline, and the willingness to sit with discomfort. More often than not, it unfolds quietly, without applause or acknowledgment. Nikita Nasa also mirrors this sentiment. For the former PR professional, healing was not a structured process but a deeply personal journey of self-awareness.

“During a phase of personal growth, I attended a few sound healing sessions. During one particular session, I remember my body started shivering, and I couldn’t just lie there and relax. I got up and asked the facilitator to hold my hand, and the moment she did, I broke down. I cried and cried, like something I’d been carrying for a long time was finally coming out,” Nasa recalls.

That experience reminded her that healing doesn’t always happen in ways we can explain or show others. Sometimes it’s just a quiet, deeply personal moment that changes something within us. Journaling, long walks, and music also helped Nasa reconnect with her emotions.

Even Ananya’s journey captures this emotion. For her, healing began with acceptance of one’s pain. “Once I stopped blaming destiny, circumstances, or other people and simply accepted that these experiences were mine, it became easier to move through them. I’ve consciously tried to express that gratitude to the people I love because it changes something, both within you and within your relationships.”

What concerns her is how social media often encourages people to look outward or how others are healing instead of looking inward at their own emotions. “We borrow other people’s healing before we even understand our own grief. Journaling or therapy only works when you’ve first built that inner connection with yourself. Social media often encourages people to replicate what they see online, causing them to skip the most important step, ‘self-awareness’. They jump straight to the methods and rituals without laying the emotional foundation that gives those practices meaning,” says the recent college graduate.

Healing vs performative healing

Thakur’s decision to step away can be seen as a response to this paradox. His desire for “closure from duality” suggests a need to reconcile the gap between his inner experience and its outward representation. It is a reminder that healing, at its core, is not about being seen; it is about being honest with oneself.

Having said that, performative healing doesn’t necessarily mean people aren’t healing. In fact, it’s helping people become better with additional tools, as pointed out by Jain. “Social media rituals don’t really dilute the healing process, but they do create a luxury barrier. When we tether our inner growth to things such as candles, journals, or specific material elements, we convert a biological and emotional process into a consumer product. These elements can be supportive anchors, but when the main anchor becomes the destination, then the substance is lost,” says Jain.

The psychologist emphasises that social media is not inherently detrimental to healing. In fact, it has normalised conversations around mental health, making resources and shared experiences more accessible than ever before. Practices like journaling and meditation can be powerful means for self-awareness and emotional regulation. But these tools can also become commodified, she adds. “A beautifully curated journal, for instance, can inspire consistency. But if the act of journaling becomes more about a measured way of being than confronting difficult emotions, its purpose is diluted. Similarly, meditation is not about achieving a picture-perfect moment of calm; it is about facing thoughts we often try to avoid.”

Raane adds that the abundance of practices available today can also create confusion. Without clarity of intention, people may adopt multiple techniques without understanding what truly works for them. The result is scattered effort rather than meaningful progress.