How I Wrote “Living in the Comments”
This post was already about self-doubt. So writing it with an AI didn’t make it easier—it made the mirror sharper.
How I Wrote Living in the Comments
This one was born from a question I’ve gotten more than once:
“Do you just copy-paste what ChatGPT writes?”
No. But I get why people ask.
The real answer is a lot more interesting—and more human than it sounds.
Where It Started
This wasn’t a clean idea-to-outline-to-draft post.
It started with a specific emotional tension: the moment right before hitting “publish,” when the comment section in your head gets louder than the words on the screen.
That feeling had already been captured in the Signal Reflex tracker:
“Explores the emotional friction around publicly sharing opinions and reflections… Anchored in personal discomfort.”
I knew I wanted to write it.
I also knew I was too close to it.
First Draft (Snapshot)
Here’s how the AI initially framed the post:
We treat the post like the end. But for a lot of us, it's just the start. Some people write books. Some give keynotes. I tend to hit “post” and then go live in the comments...
It wasn’t wrong—but it wasn’t the right post.
That version was about how feedback sharpens thinking.
But my tension wasn’t about iterating after publishing.
It was about fearing judgment before publishing.
So I clarified:
“This isn’t about the comments section after a post.
It’s about the imagined critiques before I even hit publish.”
That shifted everything.
The Real Work Was Emotional Alignment
The next draft came back clearer, tighter, closer to the truth.
But still a little too polished.
That’s when I added this:
“Honestly, it’s Key & Peele’s Misunderstood Text sketch—except I’m both guys.”
That line snapped the post into human focus.
It gave it humor. But more importantly, it gave it texture—something AI alone rarely nails.
How It Sounds Like Me
Here’s a side-by-side from a later edit pass:
| First AI Draft | Final Published Line |
|---|---|
| “But here’s the problem: fear doesn’t protect you. It just dulls your message.” | “That fear doesn’t keep me safe. It just keeps me small.” |
The second version hits harder.
It’s more me. More deliberate. Slightly blunter.
That’s what this process is. Not copy/paste.
More like: first-pass clarity → emotional tuning → structural polish → tone sharpening.
What This Taught Me
The post was about fearing misreading.
The process was about trusting the reading—both mine and the machine’s.
And here’s the kicker:
I wasn’t writing to defend myself against other people’s comments.
I was writing to defend myself from my own.
Turns out I needed help writing that honestly.
Not because I couldn’t.
Because I was too busy bracing for something that never came.
If You’re Wondering About the Line
No, I don’t “let ChatGPT write for me.”
But I absolutely write with it.
And for posts like this—where emotion, perception, and precision all blur—that second voice isn’t a crutch. It’s a mirror.
And I’m not interested in hiding the reflection.
