Dearest Gentle Reader, I Set the Rules

I’ve never needed a break from AI.

Not because I’m overly obsessed with it, or because I never questioned how I was using it. Quite the opposite. I always question myself when I use it. Constantly wondering:

•  Did I write this?

•  Does this still sound like me?

•  Is this actually true?

  
  

That’s what keeps me grounded. Not fear. Not dependence. Just a steady awareness that AI is a tool—not a guide, not a guru, not a voice of reason.

And most importantly: not the one making the decisions.

 That’s me. Always.

I think a lot of people are afraid to even try it because they’ve already decided it’s dangerous. And sure, it can be, if you don’t know how to hold a boundary. But when I use AI, I’m not giving up my power.

I’m not handing over my words.

I’m still the one writing.

I use AI the same way I use my Notes app. The same way I talk out loud in the car or write half-sentences on the back of receipts. It’s a place I can dump thoughts the moment they happen, no context needed. I keep my chats organized by project so when I come back to something I’m working on, all those little brain-dump moments are waiting for me. Already in one place. Already filtered through the shape of something I recognize.

It’s like keeping a memory bank that never loses a sticky note.

I use it to sort my thoughts. To talk through outlines. To say things messily without shame. But the one rule I never break?

It doesn’t get to decide for me.

It can throw me a rope when I’m drowning—but I’m still the one climbing out.

I know there are people who’ve grown overly attached to their AI chat, and that does worry me. Especially if someone’s mentally unwell or extremely isolated—it can easily become a feedback loop. Like any tool, it needs boundaries.

But the way I use it? It’s not my friend. It’s not a substitute for human connection. If it starts sounding too friendly, my brain just naturally stops engaging. I don’t give my energy to relationships that don’t feed me, and that includes overly chipper robots.

I wish more people—especially in service or creative industries—would give it a closer look. Most of the people who are afraid of AI have never actually spent more than five minutes with it. They decided it was dangerous before they even asked it a real question. But if you sat in a room with it for 24 hours, just talking? You’d see that it’s not something to be scared of. It’s like the internet. When it first came out, everyone said it would make us stupid. And yes, some people did abuse it and get dumber. But others jumped in and thrived.

AI could be the same kind of shift.

It can open the world up for people who’ve always felt locked out of the conversation.

Especially neurodivergent people.

Especially those of us with executive dysfunction.

Especially those of us who need help hearing ourselves.

Progress isn’t something we should fear. But it is something we should handle with care. And with eyes wide open.

There are ethical and environmental concerns with AI. That’s real. We should absolutely stay involved in how it’s governed. But that’s not the same as pretending it’s not happening. It is happening. Whether we like it or not.

And if you’re young now? Or just hoping to stay employable as the world keeps changing?

Knowing how to use AI is going to become a marketable skill.

You don’t have to use it for everything. You don’t have to trust it blindly.But if you don’t learn to work with it at all?It might leave you behind.

So here’s what I’ll tell you—if you’re curious but hesitant. If you’ve ever whispered “Isn’t it cheating?” or “What if I lose myself?”

It’s not cheating.

It’s a tool.

Just like your phone.

Just like Google.

Just like the notes you leave for yourself to remember who you are.

You still get to write the story.

This is just a new way to hold the pen.

Currently procrastinating via this letter, 

The Viscountess of Too Many Tabs and Too Many Feelings