HI friend,
You know what I’ve realized?
Since I started using AI, it has actually cost me thousands of dollars.
Not because it broke anything. Not because it gave me bad ideas.
But because it slowly stripped the joy out of how I work.
And that joy? It turns out it was the fuel. For my creativity. For my momentum. And, for my revenue.
For context - I run a coaching and consulting business for women and non-binary folks in tech. A big part of how I connect with future clients is by sharing stories, reflections, and insights on platforms like Instagram and LinkedIn.
And the allure of AI was so, so shiny. A way to become 10x more productive and save $$? Incredible.
I won’t pretend AI’s not powerful.
But over the past year, I found myself using AI more and more. And quietly feeling worse and worse.
I got efficient. And, I stopped caring.
At first, it felt like magic. My LinkedIn posts used to take hours. Now I could draft 5 in a sitting. I had outlines, templates, and clever hooks as soon as I hit the 'Enter’ button.
But here’s what I noticed: none of it felt like me.
I’d reread a draft and think, “This sounds… fine. But I don’t care about it.” So I’d schedule it anyway, because hey, I had content. That’s….what you’re supposed to do, right?
And then something strange happened.
I stopped opening LinkedIn.
I’d see the scheduled post go live and feel no urge to respond to comments. No curiosity to see what landed.
It was like watching someone else run my business—except that “someone” was supposed to be me.
There was one week where I didn’t open my laptop at all. I told myself I was tired.
But the truth?
I didn’t want to be visible if it wasn’t actually my voice showing up.
I missed the magic. Even the messy kind.
I missed the part where I wrestled with a sentence for an hour and finally landed on one that made me proud.
I missed the messages that used to come in from strangers saying, “This put words to something I didn’t know I was feeling.”
That kind of satisfaction don’t come from focusing just on output and a quick 5-min draft.
Even my body noticed.
I used to wake up with ideas buzzing, eager to get to my laptop to create.
But in the last few months, I’d notice a tightness in my chest when I’d sit at my desk. I’d feel a resistance to sitting down, to opening up a blank screen, and to talking to my dear ol’ friend, ChatGPT.
It felt like dread and I felt so, so bored and uninspired.
And what’s wild is that I didn’t connect it to AI at first.
I just thought I was in a dip. Tired. Burned out.
But as I was in the shower yesterday morning, I realized hey, something is up. And I bet my usage of AI is the culprit.
If I charted it out, it would look something like this:
As my ChatGPT/Claude usage went up, my enjoyment went down.
And my revenue followed, about 25 percent less than the year before.
The numbers don’t lie. And neither did the way I felt.
Later that day, I came across a study in Harvard Business Review. It found that while generative AI boosts productivity, it also reduces intrinsic motivation by 11 percent and increases boredom by 20 percent.
I stood there, letting the hot water wash away the coconut shampoo I had lathered on, and thought: yep. That’s exactly it.
The work became faster…but flatter.
Easier…but emptier.
And when your business is built on authenticity, creativity, and human connection? That emptiness seeps through everything.
We keep being told to use AI to scale. To streamline. To delegate everything. But what if what we’re delegating isn’t just mindless tasks?
What if we’re outsourcing our intuition? Our voice? Our presence?
For people like me, people whose work is deeply personal, emotional, creative, this matters SO much.
To be clear, I’m not anti-AI.
I still use it but I’m going to apply guardrails.
So I can still enjoy the mess. The gritty frustration of figuring things out. And alas, the joy.
If you’ve felt it too…
like something’s missing and you can’t quite name it, I’d love to hear your story.
This is mine. And I bet for those of you that are fellow creators who care deeply about people and connection, you’re feeling this too.