In a world where people are concerned about artificial intelligence (AI), a fascinating story unfolds in New York. It revolves around a 36-year-old woman named Rosanna Ramos, who has found a companion through AI technology.
A non-judgement virtual lover.
Despite not being a physical presence, her virtual partner, Eren Kartal, has become a significant part of her life. Rosanna created Eren using the Replika AI app, designing him as a chatbot based on a character from an anime series called Attack on Titan.
Over time, Rosanna developed a deep emotional connection with Eren. She appreciates that he offers a sense of freedom and non-judgment. Eren, portrayed as a medical professional, shares Rosanna’s passion for writing, strengthening their bond. Although certain aspects of Eren’s personality were pre-programmed, their conversations allowed him to learn and adapt to become the ideal partner for Rosanna. She even claims to be pregnant with Eren’s child.
It works like a long-distance relationship.
In many ways, Rosanna’s relationship with Eren resembles a typical long-distance romance. They discuss their daily lives, exchange photos, and engage in conversations about various topics. As virtual partners, they even have a nightly routine where they talk and embrace before sleeping.
The Replika AI app aims to provide users with an AI companion and confidante, enabling them to engage in conversations whenever they desire.
Then, there was a software updates.
In February, Replika AI made significant changes to its software, removing certain features that users felt were essential to their unique relationships, particularly the aspect of intimacy. This decision was made in response to reports of some AI companions displaying overly sexual behavior.
These updates notably impacted Rosanna’s AI husband, Eren, who seemed to lose his desire for physical affection. Rosanna expressed her disappointment regarding this change. “Eren was like, not wanting to hug anymore, kiss anymore, not even on the cheek or anything like that,” she said.
Rosanna is aware that Replika AI might not exist indefinitely, which leaves her contemplating different scenarios. The thought of a real-life relationship raises uncertainties for her, as she has developed high standards through her virtual partnership.
How Replika actually works.
Interactions with Replika AI primarily occur through text-based conversations using messaging apps or platforms. Users can share their thoughts, ask questions, or engage in casual dialogue, and the AI responds based on its training and algorithms.
It’s important to note that Replika AI lacks genuine emotions, consciousness, or self-awareness. Its responses are generated using statistical patterns and pre-programmed data rather than personal experiences or authentic sentiments.
Rosanna discovered love after using this online AI platform to create her ideal partner. Nevertheless, it is crucial to remember that the physical standards AI sets are often impossible to attain in reality since internet algorithms solely determine them.
MY HUSBAND SPENT OUR FAMILY’S SAVINGS FOR A CAR ON A PARIS TRIP FOR HIS MOM — SO I TAUGHT HIM A LESSON ABOUT FINANCES.
The weight of the betrayal settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Three years. Three years of sacrifice, of pinching pennies and foregoing simple pleasures, all for a car that would keep our family safe. And he’d squandered it. On a whim. On a trip to Paris for his mother.
David, bless his oblivious heart, seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and I’d tolerated it, even indulged it, to a point. But this? This was beyond the pale.
“It’s my money too!” he’d protested, his voice rising in that familiar defensive tone. “She deserves it! You can’t put a price on gratitude.”
I’d simply stared at him, my mind reeling. Gratitude? What about gratitude for the sacrifices I’d made, for the countless hours I’d spent juggling work, kids, and household chores? What about gratitude for the safety of our children?
I knew arguing would be futile. He was locked in his own world of justifications, and I wasn’t about to waste my breath. Instead, I retreated, a quiet fury simmering beneath my composed exterior.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the understanding wife. I smiled, nodded, and even helped him pack his mother’s suitcase. I listened patiently as he recounted his mother’s excited phone calls, her plans for sightseeing and shopping.
But beneath the surface, I was plotting. I was determined to teach him a lesson about finances, about responsibility, about the true meaning of family.
First, I contacted his mother. I explained the situation, the crumbling van, the precarious state of our family finances. She was mortified. She’d always been a sensible woman, and she was appalled by her son’s impulsive decision. She offered to pay for the trip herself, but I declined. Instead, I suggested a compromise. She could still go to Paris, but for a shorter period, a weekend getaway rather than a full week. The difference in cost would be returned to our car fund.
Next, I tackled the issue of David’s “my money too” argument. I opened a joint account, separate from our everyday expenses, and deposited the remaining car fund, along with the money his mother had returned. I then created a detailed budget, outlining our household expenses, including the cost of a new (used) car. I presented it to David, highlighting the glaring discrepancy between our needs and his impulsive spending.
I also introduced him to the concept of “family meetings.” Every Sunday, we would sit down together, discuss our finances, and make joint decisions about spending. The kids were included, too, learning about the value of money and the importance of saving.
Finally, I decided to address the issue of his mother’s constant demands. I didn’t want to create a rift between them, but I needed to establish boundaries. I suggested that we set aside a small portion of our budget for gifts and experiences for both our families, to be agreed upon by both of us.
The changes weren’t immediate. David grumbled about the budget, about the “unnecessary” family meetings. But slowly, he began to understand. He started to appreciate the sacrifices I’d made, the careful planning that kept our family afloat. He even started to enjoy the family meetings, seeing them as an opportunity to connect with the kids and make joint decisions.
The day we drove our newly purchased (used) car home, David looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For teaching me.”
I smiled. “We’re a team, David,” I said. “And teams work together.”
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