Writing with AI

Photo by Growtika on Unsplash

At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about writing with AI.

Would it dilute my voice?
Make my words feel less mine?
Would it slowly replace the creative process I’d spent years building?

I hesitated.

But curiosity (as always) got the better of me.

So I started small, playing with prompts, experimenting with tone, asking it to rephrase a stubborn sentence, or brainstorming angles I hadn’t thought of. And slowly, I realized something that shifted everything:

AI isn’t here to replace writers.
It’s here to expand us.

No, it won’t write your best work for you.
But it might help you get there faster.
Or clearer.
Or with a spark you didn’t see coming.

I started treating AI like a co-creator — one that never gets tired of ideating, doesn’t judge the first draft, and can generate five ways to say something I’ve been stuck on for hours.

Here’s how it’s helped me:

When I have a vague idea but don’t know where to start, → I ask it for structure

When I’m in revision mode → I test out phrasing alternatives and tighten loose ends

When I’m blocked → I let it challenge my default thinking

But here’s what I’ve learned most:

AI can assist.
But it can’t feel.

It doesn’t know what it’s like to reread an old journal and feel your chest tighten.
It doesn’t know the pause between writing something honest and hitting “publish.”
It doesn’t carry memory. Or context. Or lived experience.

It’s not afraid.
It’s not brave.
It just writes.

We, on the other hand, write from something.

From moments that changed us.
From pain, we’ve tried to find language.
From truths we weren’t sure we could say out loud.

So while AI can offer style, rhythm, grammar, and even a decent headline
It can’t tell your story.
It can’t feel your story.

And that’s where human writing still holds power.

So no, using AI isn’t cheating.
It’s evolving when done intentionally.
It’s experimenting. Enhancing. Collaborating.
But never replacing.

Because let’s be honest

Let me know when a robot stays up all night thinking about one sentence.
Until then, I think we’re safe.