Transparency, Dyslexia, and Why I Use AI to Help Me Write

I believe in transparency, so let me be clear: I use artificial intelligence to help me write articles, blog posts, social media content, and even some emails.

That does not mean an AI program is inventing my beliefs, choosing my positions, or speaking on my behalf. The ideas are mine. The experiences are mine. The frustration, research, opinions, and occasional righteous indignation are definitely mine.

AI helps me organize all of it into something other people can read without needing a decoder ring.

I have dyslexia, along with some form of undiagnosed neurospicy superpower that often manifests as intense hyperfocus and an uncontrollable urge to disappear down information rabbit holes. I may begin by researching one sentence and emerge three hours later with 27 browser tabs, four government reports, two historical references, a spreadsheet, and several strong opinions about an issue I did not know existed that morning.

My brain gathers information quickly, makes connections, and develops ideas. However, translating those ideas into clean, organized writing can be difficult.

I may know exactly what I want to say, but spelling, grammar, sentence structure, repetition, and organization can get in the way. Sometimes my thoughts arrive faster than my fingers can type. Other times, I include so much background information that the main point gets buried beneath an avalanche of context.

That is where AI becomes useful.

How I Use AI

My process usually begins with me typing out my ideas in their natural habitat: scattered thoughts, incomplete sentences, misspelled words, unexplained acronyms, personal stories, facts, statistics, and notes about what is making me angry.

I then ask an AI program to rewrite the material using correct grammar and spelling. I may ask it to organize the information, improve the flow, expand on an idea, shorten a section, or make the tone more professional, polite, persuasive, or accessible.

Sometimes I use AI to help me write an email when I know what I want to communicate but also know my first draft may be a little too spicy for government correspondence.

The program provides a draft.

Then I review it.

I check the wording. I correct facts. I remove anything that does not sound like me. I add details, change the tone, rearrange sections, and make edits wherever I believe they are needed. If the draft misrepresents my position, I change it. If it sounds too robotic, too dramatic, too cautious, or too polished, I adjust it.

The finished product remains my responsibility.

AI Is a Tool, Not the Author of My Life

People have used tools to improve writing for generations.

Writers use dictionaries, editors, proofreaders, thesauruses, spell-check programs, grammar software, transcription programs, templates, and research assistants. AI is a more advanced tool, but it is still a tool.

Using a calculator does not mean someone did not understand the math. Using a sewing machine does not mean someone did not create the dress. Using editing software does not mean a photographer did not take the photograph.

In the same way, using AI to correct spelling, improve grammar, or organize a complicated argument does not erase the person who supplied the experiences, research, judgment, and original ideas.

AI does not know what it was like to care for my husband while he served on active duty with Stage 4 cancer. It does not know what it feels like to become a military surviving spouse, fight inaccurate government records, sit through congressional meetings, review legislation, or watch veterans and survivors be used as bargaining chips.

Those experiences belong to me.

AI can help me communicate them more clearly, but it cannot live them for me.

Transparency Still Matters

I understand why people are concerned about AI-generated content.

AI can be used to produce misinformation, imitate expertise, manufacture fake stories, or create large amounts of content without meaningful human involvement. It can also confidently present incorrect information. Artificial intelligence is remarkably capable, but it can occasionally be remarkably wrong with the confidence of a man explaining a subject he learned about five minutes ago.

That is why human review matters.

I do not believe people should blindly copy and publish AI-generated material without reading it, checking it, or taking responsibility for it. Facts should be verified. Sources should be reviewed. Personal stories should remain truthful. Quotes should not be invented. Statistics should not be accepted simply because a computer presented them in a convincing paragraph

(That goes for all statistics, not just AI generated: All data collection and Data presentation can be skewed, intentionally or unintentionally) .

When I write about legislation, veterans’ benefits, military policy, government programs, or survivor issues, accuracy matters. A polished sentence is worthless if the information inside it is wrong.

AI can help organize research, but it should not replace research.

It can help explain an argument, but it should not replace judgment.

It can help improve communication, but it should not replace personal responsibility.

Accessibility Is Not Cheating

For me, AI is also an accessibility tool.

Dyslexia does not mean I lack intelligence, ideas, education, or expertise. It means the mechanics of writing may require more effort. The same is true for many people with attention differences, neurological conditions, disabilities, language barriers, or difficulties with written communication.

Technology can help close that gap.

A person should not be excluded from public discussion because they misspell words. A powerful idea should not be dismissed because the person expressing it struggles with punctuation. An advocate should not remain silent because drafting a professional email takes hours of exhausting revision.

AI allows me to spend less energy fighting the mechanics of writing and more energy thinking, researching, questioning, and advocating.

That is not dishonesty.

That is adaptation.

My Promise to Readers

When you read something published under my name, the viewpoint is mine.

I may use AI to help with grammar, spelling, structure, clarity, or expansion. I may ask it to help transform a chaotic collection of notes into a readable article. I may even ask it to make an email sound polite when my original version would have caused a congressional staffer to clutch their pearls.

But I review the work.

I decide what stays.

I decide what changes.

I accept responsibility for the final result.

The tool may help shape the presentation, but the message, experiences, research, convictions, and accountability belong to me.

I use AI because my mind is often moving faster than my fingers, because dyslexia makes written communication more difficult, and because my neurospicy rabbit-hole tendencies generate more information than a single paragraph should ever be forced to carry.

I am not ashamed of using a tool that helps me communicate more effectively.

I would rather be transparent about using AI than pretend every perfectly punctuated sentence emerged effortlessly from my keyboard.

The thoughts are mine.

The research is mine.

The edits are mine.

The responsibility is mine.

AI simply helps me make sure the commas are where they belong.

*And yes, I make graphics using AI too: because AI makes them better, faster, and cleaner than I can