It started with panic.
The realization that my résumé hadn't been updated in years, and that every artifact of my work was scattered across time, platforms, and tools, hit me like a wave. I had memory, sure. But memory is slippery. And there I was, facing the most intimidating creative opponent of all: a blinking cursor.
This wasn't just about updating a résumé. I wanted something bigger, maybe even audacious: a living time capsule. Something that didn't just list jobs and dates but captured the rollercoaster of campaigns, launches, late nights, and reinventions that shaped me. A digital archive I could revisit to relive the wins, the pivots, and the lessons hidden in the failures.
But ambition has a way of making the blank page feel even heavier.
Every creative knows this moment. It isn't the absence of ideas that holds you back. It's their weight. My memories and stories pressed at the edges of my mind like prisoners gripping the bars of a cell, waiting to break free. I wasn't afraid of silence. I was afraid of not knowing how to begin.
That's when AI stepped in. Not as a ghostwriter. Not as a stand-in. As a key.
It gave me the scaffolding I needed. A frame to build on. A nudge to move past the paralysis of the first line. It wasn't about perfection. It was about momentum. And momentum brought freedom.
Suddenly, the stories began to pour. Not because AI wrote them, but because it caught them as I poured them out. It helped me shape fragments I'd neglected, amplify sparks I'd left dormant. It unlocked more than words. It unlocked my passion for writing again.
AI didn't write my story. It unlocked it.
Discovery
After years at Microsoft reviewing hundreds of creative assets and plenty of campaigns, storytelling became second nature. But when it came to my own reinvention — building a site, rewriting a résumé, putting essays into the world — the problem wasn't storytelling. The problem was starting.
AI became my creative sparring partner. It turned a void into a canvas. But the soul was still mine:
AI opened the door. I walked through it.
Here's the thing: people don't actually want AI to do the whole job. They want the human part.
So yes, AI can open the door. But the part that matters — the soul, the resonance, the lived experience — is still on us.
For me, AI wasn't about shortcuts. It was about courage. It gave me the key to face the blinking cursor and start.
Once the door opened, the flood of words, images, and memories reminded me why I've always been a storyteller. And why strategy only works when it's wrapped in soul.
Ready to unlock your own story? The cursor is blinking. The page is waiting. And now you have the key.