Imagine trying to understand a conversation where everyone seems to be shouting underwater. That’s the reality of my world without hearing aids, a secret I kept hidden since childhood.
Words arrived as a jumbled mix of vowels, forcing me to decipher meaning from lip movements, facial expressions, and gestures. If you’d told me a year ago that artificial intelligence would help me finally accept this part of myself, I would have laughed.
Let me explain.
Before social media connected individuals with a simple swipe, I was the only child I knew who needed hearing aids. So, at a young age, I resolved to hide this at all costs, becoming an expert at it. Ironically, my entire career has centered on assisting others share their truths. As a Today Show producer and later a business storytelling coach, I spent years in control rooms and conference rooms, cultivating safe environments for vulnerability. Yet, at the same time, I was perfecting my own daily disguise: strategic hair placement, carefully angled headphones to avoid feedback, and a barrage of excuses for where I needed to sit during meetings. I mastered making others feel seen so they would share their stories, while doing everything possible to hide a significant part of my own.
Fast forward to 2023. Running my video storytelling company, I watched with frustration as students submitted lifeless AI-generated scripts. Months of helping them connect the dots on their founder stories, only to have them feed it all into ChatGPT for perfect but utterly flat final scripts. I grew to despise this new technology.
But the journalist in me could not ignore a compelling question: Could AI help us tell more vulnerable, more human stories?
Deciding to test this idea, I opened ChatGPT late one night and typed: “I want to explore something I’ve hidden my whole life. I wear hearing aids, and I’m exhausted from concealing them. Can you help me understand why I’m struggling to be open about this?”
The AI’s response was surprising. Instead of generic advice, it reflected the patterns in my own writing, noting how often I used words like “hide,” “mask,” and “cover.”
AI illuminated that my greatest strength as a storytelling coach was helping others embrace what made them unique, and that I needed to do the same for myself. Tears streamed down my face as I saw my own story in a completely new light. This moment launched a journey to help others use AI to tell their authentic stories.
But first, I used myself as the test subject. I began to use AI as a journal. I wrote down my observations about my clients and students’ biggest fears, their late-night worries, their secret dreams, whatever concerned them on social media or in the workplace (anonymized, of course). Then I explored more unsettling thoughts from my own journey as an entrepreneur: “Am I really qualified?” “What if everyone realizes I’m making this up as I go?” I then asked the AI to help me find moments from my life that could connect with my audience’s challenges. The process was challenging, revealing, and therapeutic.
Where I once saw only random events, with no bearing on my present life or business, AI helped me discover golden threads of connection. My bombing of the TV segment? That connected with my audience’s fear of visibility. My shift from network TV to entrepreneurship? A mirror for their own career anxieties. The moment I was terrified on my apartment floor with a newborn and toddler, fearing termination from my new startup? This spoke directly to my audience’s fears about taking risks and making difficult changes. It was like having a mirror that could see past my blind spots, showcasing the meaning within moments I had dismissed as “stuff that happened.”
These AI-sparked revelations appeared in my storytelling, and I tested how this newfound openness resonated with my audience. The response was immediate. The “she” identified threads of connection I had missed.
My storytelling library opened wide. I became excited to dig into the discomforting life moments with AI as my guide.
Teaching a Reflective Approach
The real breakthrough came when I started teaching this reflective approach to other business leaders. With AI, we examined the deeper meanings behind their choices, revealing stories they never considered telling. Together we used prompts like these:
- “What themes emerge in how I talk about my business journey?”
- “Where might I be holding back out of fear?”
- “How could my struggles actually help my audience?”
I watched as founders who had hidden behind their logos for years finally stepped into the spotlight with confidence. A soap company founder revealed her real reason for leaving finance for ocean conservation. Another founder realized her obsession with corporate culture stemmed from losing her father as a child. These weren’t just better marketing stories; they were moments of clarity.
These transformations were so powerful that I knew I needed to make it accessible to more people. Most AI tools weren’t designed for this kind of deep, reflective storytelling work. They were designed to generate content, not unlock authentic human stories.
Building StoryPro
So, I built StoryPro, an AI storytelling tool specifically designed for this intersection of humanity and technology: to help people discover the stories within themselves. It combines the pattern-recognition power of AI with prompts and frameworks I’ve crafted over decades. It’s like having a storytelling coach in your pocket.
Then came my moment of truth. It was time to share my hearing aid story publicly for the first time.
Using a combination of Google Notebook LLM and StoryPro, I wrote a video script about my hearing aids with a clarity I’d never felt before. The post went viral, generating millions of impressions. Speaking invitations and podcast appearances followed.
But the real transformation wasn’t in the metrics. It was in how I finally saw myself. My hearing loss wasn’t a weakness to hide.
The past 18 months have changed everything I thought I knew about AI and authenticity. AI is a mirror, reflecting back stories inside us. It can help us face ourselves and find courage in vulnerability.
Those hearing aids I hid for decades? They’re now visible in every video call and speaking engagement.
The Mirror Prompt
To begin your journey of self-discovery, try this prompt:
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Open your favorite AI tool and paste this:
“I need your help exploring something I’ve been hesitant to share. I’ll start by sharing some of my past writing so you can understand my voice. Then I’ll tell you about something I feel called to share with my audience who are {insert a bit of info on your audience and how you serve them} but haven’t found the right way to express it. Can you help me spot patterns and connections I might be missing? Feel free to ask follow-up questions.”
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After the AI responds, go deeper with:
“Help me see this through fresh eyes—what hidden strengths might lie in what I’ve seen as weaknesses? How could this help me connect more authentically with my audience?”
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Finally, ask for:
“Show me three small ways to begin sharing this story, starting with the gentlest first step I could take today.”
You may be surprised to find yourself feeling truly seen and understood . . . yes, by AI. Sometimes the most powerful insights come from unexpected places.
