How did I decide whether an idea was worth making before AI?
For me, ideas have never been the problem.
I have ADHD. Ideas show up constantly. Too many, if anything. The real challenge has always been sticking with one long enough to see it through, especially once you factor in everything that comes with making something real: planning, logistics, execution, follow-through, and the emotional tax of deciding whether it’s “worth it.”
Before AI, deciding to make something meant deciding to carry it. Carry it in my head. Carry it on my calendar. Carry it alongside every other half-formed idea competing for attention. That made the decision heavier than it needed to be.
So I looked for signals. If I shared an idea and people reacted positively, that was a signal. If there was interest or curiosity, that was a strong signal. Other times, I waited for inspiration to hit hard enough that it overpowered the resistance. I don’t think that’s unique to ADHD, but ADHD definitely amplifies it.
What AI changed wasn’t my ability to generate ideas. It changed my ability to stay with one long enough to learn whether it had legs, without having to bet weeks of focus up front.
What usually stopped an idea from moving forward?
Two things: time and attention.
Not time in the abstract sense. Time as cognitive load. The cost of holding an idea steady while everything else pulls at you. The effort required to turn a vague thought into something concrete enough to evaluate.
A lot of ideas didn’t fail because they were bad. They stalled because the path from idea to execution felt too demanding relative to the uncertainty of the outcome. When you already know how easily attention can fragment, you become more conservative about what you start.
Was the problem money, or something else?
It was almost never money. I’ve always been willing to invest financially in my ideas.
The real cost was focus. Mental bandwidth. The energy required to push something through all the steps alone.
AI doesn’t remove that cost entirely, though instead of spending that energy just trying to get an idea into a usable form, I can spend it deciding whether the idea is actually worth pursuing further.
What changed when autonomy entered the picture?
I stopped needing permission—explicit or implicit—to explore an idea.
In the past, making progress often depended on other people’s timelines, priorities, or availability. Even as a freelancer, I was still constrained by access: access to designers, writers, editors, or just the mental energy to do everything myself.
AI gives me back a kind of direct access I hadn’t felt since the one job where I had a small creative team I could work alongside in real time. I can think, test, revise, and move without waiting. Not to bypass people, but to unblock myself.
That autonomy doesn’t just make things possible. It changes what feels worth attempting.
Does this mean everything is faster now?
Some things are faster. Some things still take just as long. I still spend full days on projects. The difference is that I’m spending that time on direction, storytelling, and presentation instead of wrestling ideas into shape before they’re ready.
For someone with ADHD, that distinction matters. It’s the difference between burning energy on setup versus spending it on curiosity and momentum.
What did this change about the kind of work I make?
It widened the range of ideas that get a chance.
Before, only the ideas that felt “important enough” or “certain enough” survived my filter. Now, more ideas can be tested lightly. Some fade quickly. Some grow. But they don’t die just because the upfront cost was too high.
That’s the quiet shift. Autonomy doesn’t make every idea better. It makes the ecosystem healthier.
Who does this kind of autonomy really work for?
It works especially well for people who already think in systems, connections, and possibilities.
If you’re someone who likes orchestrating, directing, experimenting, and figuring things out as you go, AI feels less like automation and more like support. It solves the resource problem without taking away agency.
If you already want to own projects end-to-end, this removes a lot of unnecessary barriers.
What should someone focus on first?
If you’ve never used AI, start with ChatGPT. Have a real conversation about your work. Drop in something you’ve made and ask questions. Let it reflect your thinking back to you. See how it responds.
If you’ve used it a bit, look for one place where lack of support slows you down. Writing. Visuals. Structure. Review. Let AI help there first.
The goal isn’t to do everything. It’s to remove the bottleneck that keeps ideas from becoming experiments.
Why this matters more than speed
This shift isn’t about producing more for the sake of output. It’s about regaining control over what gets made, how it gets made, and whether an idea even gets a fair shot.
When that control comes back, especially for people who think the way I do, the work becomes lighter. Not easier. Lighter.
And that changes what you choose to make next.