A passing thought in between doors 🚪
In this AI climate, I've gotten so caught up in assumptions about what writing should be that I've missed opportunities to write about the things I actually care about.
Was I scared? Was there even anything to lose? 🤔
I thought too much about earning from writing—so much that I almost stripped myself of my voice just to make money. Don't get me wrong, wanting my writing to pay the bills is part of who I am. But it shouldn't be the main thing.
I love writing about wherever my soul currently lingers, whether that's the mysteries of the occult 🔮 or the candidness of my daily commute from our bedroom to the toilet 🚶♂️. These are the joys I want to keep and remember. Maybe the rainy season is just making me sentimental 🌧️. Or maybe—just maybe—those human moments I feel during my writing sessions are what people are actually looking for now. Something refreshing rather than just "informative." AI already has informative covered.
If that's true, then the opportunity before us is clear: we need to reclaim our spaces online with the messy, beautiful, real stuff that makes us human. We need writing that breathes with actual experience, that stumbles and wonders and feels. We need voices that aren't optimized or sanitized, but alive. Because if AI can generate the perfect informative piece in seconds, then our value as writers isn't in perfection—it's in our imperfections, our specificity, our irreplaceable humanity. Now more than ever, authentic voices are what will make social media actually social again. ✨