top of page

Keeping My Morals, Finding My Confidence, and Why Humans Still Matter

  • natalieburnsy
  • 6 days ago
  • 3 min read
Yes I chose Dylan. He's about as optimistic and disillusioned as I am.
Yes I chose Dylan. He's about as optimistic and disillusioned as I am.

Well, it’s been quite a couple of weeks. And because I’m in the mood for honesty, here’s the a quick run down:

I made it to the final round of an interview for a job I really wanted… and I didn’t get it.


They ran a solid process — phone call, in‑person interview, a 1‑to‑1 on Teams, then a final panel. All very sensible. And when they chose the other candidate, I knew exactly why. I knew the second I hung up. Result? Me, kicking myself in the metaphorical nuts for days. I assume many of you have been there (comments welcome).


They pulled the classic good‑cop/bad‑cop routine. After freelancing for a while, I was a bit out of practice with the “bad cop” energy. He put on his “I’m a Very Important Stakeholder” hat and threw a hypothetical at me:


“Here’s my idea. Prototype it and present it to the exec.”


And I froze — not because I couldn’t do it, but because redundancy and months of instability quietly eat away at your confidence. You don’t notice it happening until you’re suddenly second‑guessing things you used to do in your sleep.


I’m not a spring chicken, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But I am experienced, skilled, and capable. Still, after months of job hunting while AI cheerfully gobbled up half the roles in my field, even I started to wonder if I’d lost my edge. (Yes I am referencing LCD Soundsystem - give it a listen)


But here’s the thing: I hadn’t. I’d just momentarily forgotten.


The Unexpected Reminder (Delivered by My Boiler repair man and kitchen fitter)

While all this was going on, I picked up a freelance project that reminded me exactly why humans still matter in this industry.


And the client? The guy who fitted my kitchen.


Yes. Really. He turned up on my doorstep and said, “The last guy quit. No brief. No documentation. Can you make the website better?”


And honestly? It was refreshing. No corporate jargon. No performative “alignment with our values.” No AI‑generated nonsense pretending to be strategy.

Just a real person who needed real help — and trusted me to do a good job.

And that trust lit something back up in me.

Because this is what humans do best: We walk into chaos, make sense of it, and build something that actually works. We listen. We interpret. We care. We don’t just spit out content — we solve problems.

AI can generate a paragraph. But it can’t understand the nuance of a small business owner who’s stressed, overwhelmed, and just wants someone competent to take the wheel.

That’s where people like me come in.


The Positive Bit (Yes, There Is One)

The freelance work I’ve been doing lately? It’s been genuinely satisfying. Not because it’s glamorous or high‑paying, but because it’s meaningful. I care about the people I’m helping. I want to do right by them. And that makes me work harder, think deeper, and show up fully.

It reminded me that my morals — doing good work, being honest, caring about the outcome — are strengths, not weaknesses.


Despite the knock-backs, the endless applications, the AI revolution, and the general chaos of the world, my confidence has come back. Properly. Not the fake “I’m fine!” confidence — the real kind.


I pursued this career for a reason. Tech may have changed, but my motivations haven’t. And no matter how clever the machines get, they still can’t replace a human who gives a damn. This job won't mean I can retire at 50 and buy a yacht, but it makes me happy.

So put that in your AI pipe and smoke it.

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page