AI Writes Faster, But It’s Not You

Today, we can be the confident alternatives we never were, at breakneck speed.

We can tell people what to do in minutes, jump back to ChatGPT HQ and then move onto the next command. As a result, our work becomes generic and slowly erodes the role we once played. The ideal version of ourselves was never what we intended to become.

When we take the lead to share an idea with someone else, it’s the stamp of who we are, not a manufactured version of ourselves.

I never set out to be a writer in the traditional sense but since 2013, I’ve been writing.

Every week I send a newsletter. Without fail (apart from a break in the summer and Christmas). 

I started the YATM newsletter from zero and week by week, I’ve become better at explaining myself through writing. I’m figuring things out as I go. Writing forces me to clarify my half-formed thoughts, challenge my assumptions, and refine my perspectives.

When I started, it was nothing to do with strategy or thinking about personal branding. It was about something much simpler, it was my way to make sense of things. Writing was a way to process ideas, to clarify my thoughts, to share what I was learning. It was an experiment, a side project, a habit that grew into something far bigger than I ever expected. 

I was making sense of the world through my words. Over the years it has become a tool for creation, confidence, and connection.

It’s easy to share generic thoughts, but you’ll never stand out that way. Having an audience to share a newsletter every week provided me that opportunity. 

Some of my best ideas have emerged not because I sat down knowing exactly what I wanted to say, but because I started writing and let the ideas take shape. That’s why, when people say they struggle with writing, I always encourage people to just start. You don’t have to be accomplished at it immediately. You just have to do it.

I write for these reasons.

The biggest misconception about writing is you need to have it all figured out before you start.

When I sit down to write, it’s because I have a thought that I can explore out with you. For instance, it could be a sentence from listening to a podcast that struck a chord, it could be an idea from a book that I want to explore for myself.  

The act of writing forces me to ask better questions, to challenge my assumptions, to find connections I hadn’t noticed before. It’s thinking in public, in real time, with an audience willing to follow along. 

We need that thinking space and I like the idea of a blog as a repository of stories that I can look back on and see how the thinking has shaped.

Writing every week since 2013 taught me the importance of finding routines. 

It gives you a rhythm, a structure, a way to measure progress that isn’t tied to external validation. I’m not writing to impress, to go viral, or to please an algorithm. I’m writing because it makes me sharper.

In the beginning, my writing was unstructured and somewhat haphazard. Over time, I found my voice and recognised what I cared about. The only way to get better at writing is to keep writing.

I wasn’t always confident in my voice. The thought of putting my thoughts out into the world felt risky. What if people criticised me? Even worse, what if they ignored me altogether? But something shifts when you keep showing up, week after week and you start to know the people in front of you.

Confidence doesn’t come from getting everything right. It comes from knowing you have something to say and trusting yourself enough to say it. 

Writing has given me that. It’s made me more direct and less afraid to stand by what I believe in.

There’s a strange thing that happens when you keep going, you begin to see patterns.

The themes that matter to you, the ideas you return to again and again. Writing has helped me define my own values, my approach to work, my place in the world.

YATM started as a newsletter. It became a community. It grew into something bigger than me. At the heart of it all, writing has been the thread that ties everything together. The simple act of putting words on a page has shaped not just what I do, but who I am.  

Every time I ‘send’ the YATM newsletter, I’m reinforcing my own belief. Every time I hear from someone who connected with what I wrote, that belief grows stronger.

Writing, more than almost anything else, forces you to stand behind what you believe.

I don’t see writing as a rigid process. For me, it’s a chance to experiment, to test new ideas, to see what sticks. Some weeks, I take risks. Other weeks, I refine what I’ve already explored. The point is to keep moving, to stay curious, to never let the process become stagnant.

That’s what keeps it interesting. That’s what keeps me coming back.

I see this with other people in the YATM community, too. The ones who keep showing up, who keep refining their ideas, who keep sharing despite the fear, those are the ones who build something meaningful.

AI-generated content is in overdrive, the most powerful thing you can do is write in a way that is unmistakably yours.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the idea of relying on AI for more content creation. I came across a post from someone I know and thought, “That doesn’t even sound like you.”

I don’t want to be another version of me or be moulded into someone else. I don’t want to be more vocal when trends are present, or a regurgitated take from a prompt. I write because it’s me. My words, my voice, my perspective.

That’s the best reason to write. Because it’s you. Because no one else can do it quite the way you can.

The biggest privilege in all of this? Knowing that when I write, people are there to read it. It all started from zero.

It’s easy to take for granted. But having an audience, people who show up, who engage, is something I never want to lose sight of.

That’s why I keep writing. That’s why I’ll keep showing up. Not because I have to, but because I can. Because I want to.

We’re at a crossroads. AI can help us write faster, but if we’re not careful, it can also strip away what makes our voices, us. If we automate too much, we risk losing the personal connection that makes writing powerful.

I keep returning to the table each week because writing is about being myself and sharing my thoughts with you.

So write. Write even when it’s hard. Write even when you don’t know exactly what you’re trying to say. Write to think. Write to connect. Write to figure things out. Write to be seen.

What’s stopping you? Start today, even if it’s messy, even if it’s uncertain. Your voice matters.

More than anything else, it’s how we hold on to who we really are.