My Struggle With AI

June 21, 2026

I wasn’t an early adopter of AI. I didn’t understand it and hesitated before checking it out. Now I use it as often as I find myself talking about it with family, friends, and clients. 

These conversations are rarely just about AI. 

At the heart of these discussions are questions about navigating a new landscape and adapting to something different. What does it mean when something begins reshaping how we learn, work, make decisions, and solve problems? As practical as those questions may seem, they can also become surprisingly personal. What does this mean for who I am? Am I still the one doing the thinking?

We don’t all respond to change the same way. You can be curious about what's possible while questioning what it means. Interested in learning more while feeling uncertain about what comes next. Excited by the opportunities while also wondering what may be lost along the way. Those reactions may seem contradictory, but two seemingly opposing things can be true at the same time. 

For many of us, questions eventually find their way into our work. What do I need to learn? Am I paying attention to the right things? How do I know whether I’m adapting thoughtfully or simply reacting to pressure? When the answers aren’t obvious, or others seem more confident, more informed, or further ahead, it’s easy to assume they’ve figured something out while you’re still trying to determine what questions to ask.

We don’t all move through change at the same pace. You may be someone who wants to experiment, explore, or learn by doing. Or you may prefer to take in information, ask questions, and understand something before deciding how to respond. Neither approach is inherently right or wrong. The more useful question may be what influences your pace. Are you acting from curiosity, confidence, caution, pressure, or something else entirely? The pressure to keep up can lead to a sense of urgency, but urgency is not always the same as thoughtful action. Sometimes the most productive response is not to move faster, but to slow down long enough to ask better questions.

Adapting to change doesn’t require changing who you are. It may simply require being thoughtful about what deserves your attention, what aligns with your values, and what you want to carry forward as the world around you continues to evolve.

If you’re a parent, AI may also raise another set of questions. How will your children learn to think for themselves when answers are available instantly? How do they develop creativity and communication skills? How do they learn to work through a challenge rather than immediately looking for a solution? And for those heading to college, there are questions about what to study, how AI will influence career goals, and what the landscape will even look like by the time they get there. 

Perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of these conversations is how people are beginning to use AI in their personal lives. Some use it as a source for ideas. Others use it as a thought partner when brainstorming, problem-solving, or organizing information. Some seek guidance, encouragement, or feedback. The more interesting question may not be whether AI can provide these things, but what we may gain when feedback is separated from relationships, context, and personal investment.

There is a meaningful difference between receiving information and developing understanding. Information can be generated quickly. Understanding requires context, judgment, experience, and perspective. It requires the ability to ask follow-up questions, challenge assumptions, and consider nuances that may not be immediately visible.

This is where trust enters the conversation.

How much trust should we place in the information we receive? How do we evaluate accuracy? How do we recognize when something aligns with our preferences simply because it is telling us what we want to hear? What happens when we rely on a tool that lacks personal knowledge of our history, relationships, values, or circumstances? 

These are not questions with simple answers. They are invitations to think critically about our decision-making and the role judgment continues to play in our lives.

Human relationships offer something that technology cannot fully replicate. The people who know us well bring context, history, and perspective into conversations. They notice patterns. They ask difficult questions. They challenge our thinking, hold us accountable, and help us make sense of experiences through the lens of who we are, not simply the information we provide.

As useful as AI may be, it has no personal investment in our growth, relationships, or decisions. It cannot know our history, read our body language, hear hesitation in our voice, or recognize when something beneath the surface deserves more attention. These are questions worth considering: What information am I relying on? Who am I talking to about it? And am I using AI to expand my thinking, or am I slowly outsourcing parts of it?

The more I think about the conversations I’ve been having lately, the more I realize they’re not so much about AI as they are about the impact it’s having on how we think, how we learn, what we trust, and how we remain connected to ourselves and one another.

AI has no personal investment in any of those answers.

We do.

With my hesitation about using AI long behind me, I've joked that Chat and Claude are my friends. They've helped me with many things, and yet when I asked both to write this last paragraph, neither could. Not because they aren't capable, but because knowing someone's human side isn't something AI can do. For all that AI can accomplish, it can only work with what it is given. The parts of us that come from a lifetime of experiences, relationships, successes, failures, and memories remain uniquely our own. And therein lies my struggle with AI.