Is This A.I? Does It Matter?

Whenever I share a new blog, there are a select few friends who’ll message me with something along the lines of, “This stinks of AI.” They mean it as an insult, but honestly, I take it as a bit of a compliment.

One of them is an English teacher who, early in my career, would very kindly proofread my work and help me tighten up my grammar. I’m still genuinely grateful for that. But he’s also noticed something else over time, that my writing style has “vastly improved.”

And I would hope so too! That’s the point, isn’t it? We learn, we take feedback on board, and we grow.

So when I hear that my writing sounds too “polished,” I can’t help but wonder, do we sometimes confuse growth and improvement with something artificial?

There’s a strange kind of suspicion that comes with the word AI these days. We’re so quick to assume that if something seems refined, thought-out or neatly phrased, it must somehow lack heart. But is that really fair?

We’ve always had tools that help us shape our ideas... Spellcheck, dictionaries, editors, teachers, colleagues, even loved ones who read over our drafts and offer a word of encouragement.

So what’s the difference between learning from a person and learning from technology? Isn’t both just another way of reflecting, refining, growing?

It makes me think, how often do we judge ourselves the same way? We tell ourselves we’ve changed, and then worry that we’re somehow “less real” because of it. As though growth invalidates authenticity.

I see this a lot and maybe you’ll recognise it too...

We change careers, and suddenly wonder if we’ve “sold out.”

We become parents and don’t feel like our old selves anymore.

We stop going out as much, or start saying no to things, and feel guilty that we’re “boring now.”

We get better at setting boundaries and fear we’ve become “cold.”

It’s funny how we can long for growth and then, when it comes, question whether it’s allowed to feel different.

But growth isn’t a betrayal of who we were, it’s a continuation of it. It's what happens when we take everything we’ve learned and use it to move forward, a little wiser, a little clearer.

And in therapy, that’s often the work, learning to accept that who we are now doesn’t make who we were before wrong. Both versions of us are real.

Technology has always been a part of how we express ourselves. When cameras were invented, people said it would destroy art. When synthesisers appeared, they said it would kill music. When word processors arrived, writers feared it would make us lazy.

But none of these things stopped creativity, they expanded it. They gave people new ways to express familiar feelings.

Maybe the real question isn’t “Is this AI?” but “Does this still feel human?” Does it move you, make you think, make you feel something genuine?

Because if it does, maybe the source doesn’t matter quite as much as the connection it creates.

We live in an age where everything can be filtered, reworded, or optimised, our photos, our CVs, our emails, even our conversations.Sometimes, yes, it can feel exhausting trying to work out what’s “real.”

But I think authenticity isn’t about being raw all the time, it’s about being intentional. It's knowing what you want to say, and having the courage to say it in your own way, even if you needed a little help getting there.

That’s something I often explore with clients in counselling: How do we know who we are, when so much of life asks us to adapt? How do we find our real voice among all the noise, digital or otherwise?

Growth, self-expression, authenticity, they’re not fixed points. They evolve as we do.

If you’ve ever found yourself wondering whether you’re being “authentic enough,” or comparing how you present yourself now to who you used to be, you’re not alone.

We all do it, online, at work, in relationships.... We question whether the version of us people see is the “real” one.

But perhaps the real you isn’t the same as you once were, and that’s OK. Maybe you’re just learning, refining, evolving.

Counselling can be a powerful space for that kind of reflection, a chance to notice how you’ve changed, what still feels true, and how to carry that forward in a way that feels aligned with who you are now.

So to my friends who say my writing “stinks of AI” — thank you. Because maybe what you’re really noticing is growth. And if that growth helps someone pause, reflect, or feel understood — then perhaps that’s as human as it gets. (Extra — dashes — for dash—sake).

If this post resonates with you, if you’ve ever felt unsure about who you are, how much you’ve changed, or how to stay true to yourself in a fast-moving world, therapy can help you explore that.

You can arrange a free, informal, no-obligation call using the Free Consultation button below. A simple way to start a real human conversation.