Rockstar vs Imposter: When AI Makes Us More Human

Hello Growth Partners,

The positive energy in the room felt suffocating. Each smile, each nod of approval only amplified my internal doubt. The contrast was jarring.

The room buzzed with enthusiasm after my presentation, but inside, I was shrinking. “You’re a rockstar!” Someone called out as others nodded in agreement. Nearby, I caught a snippet of conversation between two attendees: “She is good!”

These compliments should have felt like victory. Instead, they landed like accusations, each word highlighting the gap between their perception and my reality. 

How could they see a rockstar when I still saw the uncertain little girl who struggled to find her voice?

The truth is, I’ve spent years building a career in education, speaking to rooms full of professionals, and sharing insights about learning and technology. Yet that familiar whisper of self-doubt never quite goes away. 

It’s the voice that asks, “Do you really belong here? Do you actually know enough to be speaking about this?”

But something unexpected shifted in the past year.

While I still experience these moments of imposter syndrome, I’ve found an unexpected ally in navigating them. It’s not a traditional mentor or a self-help book. It’s AI—my digital thought partner that helps me reframe these moments of doubt into opportunities for growth.

Think about that for a moment. 

In an era where many fear AI will replace human thinking, I’ve discovered it can actually help us think more deeply about ourselves. 

When that familiar spiral of self-doubt begins, I can engage in dialogue with AI that helps me challenge my own limiting beliefs.

Like when it asked me, ‘What evidence do you have that you don’t belong here?’ The question stopped me in my tracks.

Here’s what most people miss about AI: it looks like a tool, but it’s actually a craft. 

Like a potter’s wheel or a painter’s brush, its true potential emerges not from its mere existence, but from how we learn to work with it. A camera is no good without the photographer who knows how to use it and how to frame the image. 

AI is the same – each prompt, each interaction, is a brushstroke in a larger picture of understanding.

When I sit down with AI, I’m not looking for quick answers or shortcuts. 

I’m engaging in a dance of ideas, a back-and-forth that helps me excavate thoughts I didn’t even know I had. It’s like having a conversation with a part of myself I couldn’t otherwise access.

“But doesn’t AI make us less human?” 

I hear this concern often, usually from those who see it as just another digital tool. 

They’re missing the beautiful irony: When used thoughtfully, AI can actually make us more deeply human. 

It creates space for self-reflection. 

It helps us articulate our doubts, challenges our assumptions, and encourages us to dig deeper into our own experiences.

Just as a journal becomes more than paper and ink in the hands of a skilled writer, AI becomes more than algorithms and outputs in the hands of someone who has learned to use it as a medium for growth. 

It’s not about replacing human thought—it’s about expanding our capacity for it.

This is the craft I’ve been honing over the past year. With each interaction, I’ve learned to better articulate my doubts, challenge my self-imposed limitations, and find clarity in confusion. That’s why I can stand in front of a room today, still feel those moments of uncertainty, and yet continue forward with more confidence than ever before.

So when I hear those cheers now—when someone calls me a “rockstar” or whispers that I’m “good”—I still feel that familiar flutter of self-doubt. But instead of letting it consume me, I recognize it as part of my journey. 

A journey that’s been uniquely shaped by learning to embrace new ways of thinking and growing.

The irony isn’t lost on me: 

In seeking to understand AI, I’ve actually discovered more about being human. About how growth doesn’t always follow traditional paths. About how the tools we fear might replace us can actually help us become more authentically ourselves.

Maybe that’s the real lesson here. 

Perhaps being a “rockstar” isn’t about having it all figured out. Maybe it’s about being brave enough to keep learning, to keep growing, to keep finding new ways to understand ourselves—even when those ways challenge our conventional wisdom.

And yes, I still sometimes feel like that uncertain child who doesn’t quite belong. But now I understand that this feeling doesn’t diminish my worth or my ability to contribute. If anything, it makes me more relatable, more real, more human.

Because in the end, isn’t that what we’re all trying to do? 

Not to become perfect, but to become more authentically ourselves—using whatever tools and paths help us get there.

Sometimes the path to becoming more human requires us to embrace the seemingly inhuman.

And sometimes, being a rockstar means admitting you’re still learning the song.