When I started my bachelor’s degree, ChatGPT didn’t exist. Then, almost overnight, it appeared and changed everything. Now it is part of our everyday life. “How do I cook this?” “Can you explain this?” “Write me a fitness plan!” “Plan my week!”
Generative AI has become the assistant we never knew we needed.
When I first experimented with it, I expected convenience: quick summaries, grammar support in a different language, better structure. What I didn’t expect was how profoundly it would reshape the way I think.
At first, AI was simply a productivity tool. I used to spend hours revising texts, searching for the right phrasing or clearer structure. Now, those routine tasks are off my plate. It feels as if I have delegated the repetitive parts of my work to an assistant, freeing time to dive deeper into the topics that actually excite me and require real analytical thinking.
But more than efficiency, AI has become a creative amplifier. With just a few words, I can co-create ideas, visuals, or arguments. It’s like brainstorming with an endlessly curious partner, one that occasionally misses the point, but always sparks something unexpected.
Yet what fascinates me most is how technology challenges our understanding of creativity and authorship, the very question of who truly creates and owns an idea. When an algorithm can write poetry, compose music, or design visuals, what still defines human originality? I’ve come to see creativity not as producing something from scratch, but as curating, directing and questioning what AI helps generate. The human role shifts from author to architect of meaning.
AI has not replaced my creativity; it has reframed it. But as these systems evolve, one thing remains crucial: educating society about their responsible and ethical use. Because AI should stay what it was meant to be: a tool, not a replacement for human insight, empathy, and imagination.
