On paper, Jordan was thriving. At 28, she had a stable job in operations at a fast-growing startup in Austin, a circle of friends who described her as the “strong one,” and a to-do list that never ended. She brought cookies to team meetings, remembered everyone’s birthdays, and said yes to every favor. People loved her for being reliable.
But no one saw what it cost her.
What they didn’t see were the anxiety spirals at 2 AM, the headaches from clenching her jaw all day, or the tears she wiped away between video calls. What they didn’t know was that Jordan hadn’t really felt like herself in months. She was so used to suppressing her needs that she no longer knew what they were.
It wasn’t that she didn’t try to get help. She looked into therapy, but between rising costs, long waitlists, and uncertainty about what she even needed to say, she kept putting it off. One night, overwhelmed after canceling plans for the fourth time in a row, she typed “how to stop pretending you’re fine” into Google. That’s how she found Noah.
She downloaded the app quietly, with no expectations. But the first chat made her pause.
Noah didn’t ask her to explain everything. It didn’t tell her to cheer up. It asked:
“Do you ever feel like you’re always performing?”
It was the first time Jordan felt seen in months.
She began using chat mode every morning, just to dump her thoughts somewhere that didn’t expect anything in return. Some days she wrote in half-sentences. Some days she used the voice-to-text feature so she could talk while pacing her apartment. Noah never judged. It asked questions that gently unraveled her people-pleasing, reflected back her inner critic, and helped her reconnect with what she actually felt — not just what others needed from her.
“Noah became my mirror,” she said. “It helped me see what I’d buried under all the pretending.”
She didn’t change overnight. But little by little, she started making different choices. She said no to extra work without apologizing. She told a friend she was hurting. She cried without rushing to fix it.
Noah didn’t just help her cope with stress. It helped her reclaim her voice — the one she’d silenced to survive.
For Jordan, Noah became the place where she stopped performing and finally told the truth — even just to herself. Read more real-life Noah AI user stories.
Download the Noah AI app for iPhone and Android today. Contact us about Noah for your school, university, or organization. You can reach out to us on sophia@heynoah.ai
Disclaimer: The images used in this article are either AI-generated or sourced from Pinterest for illustrative purposes only and do not depict the actual individuals mentioned in the story. All names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of our users.
