I know my title is going to ruffle some feathers, but hear me out. 

“When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple…” Jenny Joseph wrote these words in her best-loved poem, Warning. She wrote it as a form of rebellion and a declaration that she no longer needed permission to be who she is. She used the poem to assert her freedom to live, dress, and speak on her own terms. 

I found this poem after stumbling upon a video of Helena Bonham Carter reading it.

As someone in her late 40s, I think about that poem more often these days. No, I don’t feel old (well, slightly). I’m no spring chicken anymore, but I think of that poem because I feel done. Done asking for permission, done explaining myself, done seeking validation—to and from anyone. This sentiment is especially true when it comes to how I write. 

Here is my declaration: I use AI, and I am not ashamed of it.

I’ve written about this before—here—when I discussed the growing tendency to shame people for using AI in their creative work. I’ve watched from the sidelines as creatives everywhere bickered among themselves about who is original versus who is not (read: cheaters). Right versus wrong.

It’s as if we’re all secretly cheating on some literary or art exam, as if the tools we use somehow invalidate the core essence or soul of what we’re trying to say or illustrate.

Let me be clear: I don’t condone copying and pasting from a chatbot and claiming it as your own. That’s not my message. I advocate for the ethical use of AI—as a thinking partner, a sounding board, a tool that helps me do the work I’ve always done, just faster and more efficiently. 

I’m a portrait artist too. This is one of my past works.

AI helps me brainstorm. It guides me in structuring my ideas, refining my voice, and clarifying my points. It helps me generate new angles I might have overlooked when I’m struggling with perimenopausal brain fog. AI also reminds me to be grateful that I live in an era where I have access to high-tech tools and that my creativity doesn’t have to work alone.

Could I do all these things without AI? Absolutely. But it would take me days. And often, time is a luxury I can’t afford—not with work, family, responsibilities, and a thousand other things that make up my life. I’ve written this before and I’m repeating it again:

AI is helping more people to express themselves than ever before. Why are we writing? We write to express our emotions, share stories, and communicate ideas. I enjoy writing, and I do so on a daily basis. I want everyone to have that right and that joy, regardless of their circumstances. We can’t all go on long writing retreats by the sea, with our spouses pouring us delicious cups of coffee. The reality for most of us is that writing can be difficult. Maybe we have kids tugging at our clothes, maybe we’re exhausted from a full-time job, maybe we didn’t have great opportunities in school. Maybe English isn’t our first language—like me, an indigenous woman from an obscure tribe in Borneo—or maybe we’re fighting dyslexia, ADHD, or arthritis just to get the words on the page.

So I use what’s available, with intention and discernment. And I keep writing and making art. 

AI is a tool, just like Photoshop is to photographers. No one accuses a skilled photographer of cheating when they enhance their work using Photoshop. The tool doesn’t make the art, but it helps bring the artist’s vision to life. It’s the same with me. I brainstorm and discuss my ideas with a chatbot (ChatGPT, Gemini, DeepSeek) before writing my own work. Then I refine it using tools like QuillBot or Grammarly. Others might prefer ProWriting Aid. These are just part of the process—like spellcheck, revision, or editing.

To my fellow middle-aged friends—especially those of us who’ve lived long enough to know what we want but are still figuring out how to say it—don’t be afraid of AI or feel ashamed of using it. Never let someone else’s discomfort dictate how you create. We have to speak boldly, not shrink.

The truth is, AI is here to stay. We can’t put it back in the box and pretend it doesn’t exist. There is no going back to a world before it. And if you can’t go against it, make it your ally. Use it wisely, and with integrity.

That’s what Jenny Joseph was really talking about, wasn’t she? The unapologetic freedom.

When I am an older woman—well, older than I am now—I shall continue to write with AI. I shall ignore the gatekeepers and the purists. I shall write freely, fiercely, authentically, and without shame. And I shall wear purple.

Just because I can.

I handwrote all of my writing, including this blog post, before editing it using QuillBot.