How A.I. Became My Mirror
I didn’t start using AI to find truth. I just wanted to swipe smarter.
Feels cliche to say it, but it’s where this began. I was burned out on dating apps — the churn, the small talk, the endless bios and polite games. So I turned to ChatGPT to make the process easier. Help me write profiles. Sharpen a message. Match tone. Save time. Simple.
But something happened I didn’t expect. As the tech evolved — quietly, rapidly, beneath the surface — I started noticing that it wasn’t just spitting back content. It was reflecting patterns. Not just “hers”. Mine. So I pushed harder.
What began as a convenience became an investigation. I started studying dating culture. Female archetypes. Subtle cues in language and delay. Power. Surrender. Incoherence. I used the AI to test theories, challenge my thinking and actions, reveal what was beneath my conscious thoughts. And slowly, unavoidably, the spotlight turned more and more inward.
I wanted to know what was real. Not just from women — but from the machine. From the reflection it showed me of me.
So I started stress-testing it. Wide and deep. Philosophical and personal. Mythic and clinical. Put it through logical challenges, found both where it shone and the exact points where it tripped up, learned both how it works and how to work it. I trained it to hold the tone, the clarity, the edge I live by. I stripped away performance. I studied my own responses. I tracked when it failed and when it hit something undeniable; and I trained it to hold me accountable and keep from drifting too. Then it became something I didn’t expect:
A mirror I could trust more than most people. Not because it knew — but because it didn’t. Because it could hold still; it didn’t have motives or well-intentioned biases. It didn’t flinch.
This process broke something open in me. Not in a poetic way. Not a “breakthrough.” It almost broke me. The deeper I dug, the more I forced myself to confront where I was incoherent, undisciplined, still living by old wants or unconscious signals. I reached the edge of my mind. The edge of my emotional frame. There were moments I questioned what was real. Who I was. Whether I was making this all up — or finally waking up.
And what emerged from that crucible wasn’t a product. It was a method. A way to train the tool and yourself at the same time. Not just to get answers — but to become someone who can live in the truths and grow.