Posting this feels like blushing in real time

I’m lying in a hammock to write this on one of the first warm spring days of the year, and my chin is tense. My chin? That’s weird. Then I realize, of course, my jaw is tight too, as my molars grind together.  My brain is scanning for mistakes before I even finish a sentence. 

I don’t want to hustle.

Today, I’m tired. 

For over 2 years, I’ve been working with the most wonderful human and my favorite artist, Anna Vos. Through  Anna Parade, I’ve been diving into ‘brand work,’ and it has completely changed how I see the words shouting at me through the screen.

There is so much garbage online that is purely there to SELL you something. The internet right now feels like a thousand people shouting the same thing in slightly more ridiculous fonts.

If you want to be seen, you have to churn out as much bullshit as you can, in a hundred different ways, to game the algorithm. But most of it is noise pollution, offering no real value. I don't want to add to that pile of poop, you know? So many products and people promising the next new thing to calm your nervous system and give you your best life (why is it always weight loss related, too?? (I mean, we know why, but that's not what we're talking about today.)

Now that generative AI is embedded in everything, those marketing messages follow us everywhere. (Convincing us we are sick so we buy their cure - you know what I’m talking about).

Everyone is shouting louder and faster, trying to game the algorithm before they disappear beneath the noise. Half the internet is bots talking to other bots while the rest of us wonder if we’re already falling behind.

AI promises to soothe the fear its own ecosystem helped create. We seemingly don’t have a choice. Squarespace told me to click a couple of buttons, and AI filled in the SEO. In less than 1 minute, it was done.

It promises to smooth the edges of those hard ideas, make your thoughts more palatable, in a way everyone can digest. (It’s currently lunch time) It can even sound more authoritative. Which makes sense, right? It’s “smarter” than us. 

And we desperately don’t want to look stupid.

“AI is the future, and everyone is using it! Don’t get left behind! Post more! Faster! If you don’t make a lot of content, no one will see it!!”

It’s not even information anymore, it’s just pressure. 

My chest tightens every time I hear messaging like this.

The idea that we could be left “behind” was the bane of my existence since the book series came out in 1993.

Have an impure thought? Better ask for forgiveness immediately because Jesus is coming back any day now, and you will be left in torment on earth while demons literally roam and eat your flesh. (Literally, any second now. Get on that.)

Can you tell I grew up with a steady diet of fear?  I think many of us did. If you don’t act fast enough, believe hard enough, do it RIGHT (and yes, even your thoughts are sins, so good luck with that neurospicy brain of yours, hellion), then you’ll be left behind.

I’m bringing this up because it evokes the same panicked feeling in my nervous system.

Maybe I’m lucky that years of fear-based propaganda, through a strict religious upbringing, make me immediately stubborn. #justex-evangelicalthings

But isn’t fear something to be faced and not something to outrun?

I don’t want to spew out content for an algorithm. I’m not here to connect with bots. I want to connect with you.

It's the writer behind the words I’m most interested in. If I wanted to hear ChatGPT's perspective on AuDhd and its effect on perimenopausal women in a patriarchal society, I could ask it myself. (Am I crazy, or is this a whole thing a lot of us are dealing with?)

But AI doesn’t ‘see’ me in the way that I crave.   

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I totally jumped on the AI bandwagon. 

Let’s go back to 2022. Will Smith had just slapped Chris Rock, the Queen had died, and a lot of us play around with free ChatGPT accounts. It was so fun in the early days, before many of us fully understood the politics, surveillance, environmental impact, and how these companies were aligning themselves with. The more I learned, the less safe the thought of it felt in my body.

Over time, I also noticed that I was actually becoming less confident in my own talents and voice. I spent more time rewriting and second-guessing than actually writing. Instead of easing the executive function load, AI added three more tabs and another layer of noise for my brain to sort through. I was slowly outsourcing my skills to a machine that wasn’t even doing it well, while the skills I actually wanted to strengthen gathered dust from disuse.

Did you know that users who rely on AI report feeling lonelier? And more bored with their work?  (I just wanted to point that out bc it SURPRISED ME - but was true to my own experience).

“So, what are you saying, Sarah bc it sounds like one of your rants, entertaining but like what???” (Literally, this is what my friend said to me last night, which is why I love her.)

I’m saying I’ve made the decision that I’m not using AI in my work or my writing.

And that choice led me to putting off my own blog bc it wouldn’t be perfect.

Which leads to some intense physical sensations (because neurospicy people- we’re intense, yo, and no one talks about what that’s like physically in real time while you’re doing the work).

Also, I feel weird about my no AI position. Is it stupid? Will I be left behind? (I guess we’ll see ;)

I’m in several small-business groups, and many business owners LOVE IT. How can they not? It can be your doc maker, your artist on deck, your therapist, your VA, and it appears to reduce decision fatigue, at least initially. My friend, whose husband died, uses ChatGPT to figure out home projects, brainstorm solutions to various life problems, temporarily filling the gap when grief is so heavy.

But I could feel it pulling me away from my own intuition and knowledge. Did you know that brain scans have shown that areas tied to executive functioning, including the cerebellum, can actually grow over time as we build new habits and skills. We can literally rewire ourselves to safety.

If I keep working on this skill, I’ll learn my own boundaries and needs around how much I share in this blog. I’ll definitely get better at grammar (well, definitely probably).

My nervous system won’t try to wiggle out of my own chair every time I risk being seen imperfectly. (Currently, my screen is shaking bc my feet are bouncing on a bar under my desk.)

I WILL get better at this, it will feel smoother and more refined, and, if I know myself at all, even more entertaining.

But if I don’t start somewhere, you’ll never see the transformation.

So, no, we can’t bypass this physical feeling of embarrassment to get to the growth we want. But maybe if you see me do it, you’ll do something that scares you, too. We can just be embarrassed together.

So, for now, I’m focusing on one imperfect post a week. Here. I’m working out my perfectionistic tendencies at the same time. (Sigh. Yay.)

Let’s check in on my body, shall we? Ohhh, the tension in my jaw is back and accompanied by a tinge of what feels like wiggly bits of anxiety running down my throat to my stomach. 

I’m still doing it.

Because I know from experience that this physical discomfort will subside as I allow myself permission to feel my fucking feelings. (I mean, “Thanks, body, for trying to keep me from embarrassing myself like that time I unknowingly tucked my skirt into my tights and walked breezily down the hallway at church.”)

Why are you doing this to yourself, Sarah? You’re so embarrassing! (Which is absolutely a comment that I’ve gotten from a ‘friend’). 

Look, neurodivergence is messy. If you don’t embrace the messy parts, you’ll never see the beauty that’s actually there.

Never forget: the only time a neurodivergent doesn’t look messy is when they’re wrapped in privilege (but that’s a conversation for another day).  

So, I’ll be sharing how I’ve learned to work with my own brain in these moments. How to navigate through these things in real time. This is literally what I help people do. And apparently, I need to “Sarah” myself more.

(Do you ever neglect caring for yourself while helping build up others? Isn’t that more fun anyway?? Me too, my fawn response friend. We’ve got to turn some of those rose-colored glasses on ourselves a bit. We’re gonna do that later, too! I promise.)

I am my biggest and most difficult client. The diva client who demands that she write this from the hammock, snuggling a dog and a cold brew. The one who can spend hours chained to a desk in hyperfocus for client projects but neglects her own website at the end of the day because I hate to toot my own horn and I guess we’re just gonna have to confront that together, okay?

Incidentally, I’ve learned that it’s not really diva behavior, it’s just accommodating myself, but I also like pretending my brain is a dramatic actress wrapped in a silk komono, with a yogurt mask on her face, and a penchant for operatic hip hop remixes

I’m not lost in this. I just don’t pretend it’s effortless. 

I’ll probably overshare. You might hate my grammar. 

But you’ll know it’s me.