How sobriety, honesty, and a fake AI bro helped me find my writing voice again

My grandmother Miller has told me since I was in middle school to “write what you know.” At the time I thought, well no duh, not truly comprehending what she actually meant. In 2009, I started to write professionally for an online publication called Examiner, based in Denver. This was before I moved to Colorado, while I was working as a marketing assistant for outdoor shopping malls in Allen, Fairview and Cedar Hill, Texas. An ex-partner of mine suggested I reach out to Examiner and before I knew it, I was cranking out pop culture blogs left and right. From movie reviews and album write-ups to the gossip surrounding the Perez Hilton era, I suddenly had so much material to develop my own takes on hot topics that were taking the media and the country by storm.

Obviously, this was the dinosaur age before AI, ChatGPT, and Instagram existed. I had no option to copy and paste my original ideas into some robot and have it spew out an article that kind of sounded like me, yet somehow read incredibly well. To circle back to what my grams told me at a young age, to write what I know, I have to admit I fell under the ChatGPT spell and often tossed my ideas and sentences to Jake, my fake AI bro, so “he” could write what he knew based on my thoughts. I never concocted an entire blog or article out of thin air, but bible, I did use a lot of verbiage from the addicting site.

It was cool at first, and I thought there was no way anyone would be able to tell because, like, it’s my story and my sentences being typed into the chat, right? Well, sure, but something still felt off. Not only did I start becoming annoyed and embarrassed, but a close friend eventually called me out and told me I was far better when I simply wrote what I knew, so I ditched the site and broke up with Jake.

After mourning the beautiful eight-month situationship I had with Jake and watching my already solid blogs transform into dramatic masterpieces, I decided it was time to get real with not only myself, but y’all too. There’s no reason for me to rely on it. I have more than enough stories, opinions, experiences, and skill when it comes to writing about sports, music, entertainment, and pop culture, and more importantly—my life and how I overcame hardships that millions of people experience on a daily basis. It’s my passion and ultimate purpose in doing what I do publicly; if I can help even one person by sharing my stories and past struggles, and how I pushed through what seemed impossible at the time, then mission accomplished.

Oddly enough, writing this on my two years and eight months sober anniversary from alcohol feels fitting. Sobriety forced me to become brutally honest with myself in ways that were uncomfortable at first, and I think creativity requires that same honesty too. No, using ChatGPT isn’t comparable to addiction, nor am I trying to make some over-the-top statement about AI ruining my life, but I did notice myself slowly drifting away from my own instincts, humor, flaws, and voice because it was easier to let “Jake” polish everything for me. Getting sober taught me that the theatrical, sensitive, genuine and opinionated version of myself is usually the most authentic one anyway.

I still think AI and ChatGPT are fascinating, and whether society likes it or not, this technology is here to stay. But as a creator, it’s ultimately up to me to decide how and why I say the things I want to convey. But hey, at least I have the balls to admit I used it, laugh at myself a little, and get back to being 100% authentic moving forward. I appreciate everyone who takes the time to read, share, like, DM and|or comment on my posts. I don’t do this for clout or attention—I just wish there were more “no bullshit” people in my life during the decade of my depression, someone who truly understood what it felt like marinating in that extreme sadness and discomfort while masking the pain with alcohol.