“I’m Not AI, I’m Just Autistic”

This isn’t like anything I’ve written before on my blog. But I need to say it.

I’ve been a professional writer, proofreader, and editor since 2008. I’ve written for corporations, content mills, startups, you name it. From technical manuals to staff training programs, I’ve made a career out of knowing how to communicate clearly and effectively through the written word.

Writing has always been where I shine. In fact, it’s where I feel most myself.

So when I started noticing a disturbing trend: writers being accused of using “low-quality AI” without proof, having their credibility questioned, and even being punished for sounding ‘too structured’ or ‘too polished’, I knew I had to speak up.

Because I know that fear intimately. I live with it every time I hit publish.

Here’s the truth: I’m autistic.

It’s not something I’ve talked about publicly before, and it’s not something I ever thought I’d need to “explain” on my blog.

I was diagnosed later in life, and outside of a few close people, no one really knows. I mask well. I don’t fit the stereotypes. And I definitely don’t plan to be the face of anything.

But I’m writing this because I think it’s important. The way I write is clear, organized, and precise, not artificial. It’s just how my brain works. And I’m scared that one day, it’ll be used against me.

There’s something deeply unfair about being accused of sounding “too good”. As if people like me aren’t capable of crafting thoughtful, high-quality writing without the help of a robot.

Plus the tools people are relying on to ‘sniff out’ AI? They’re deeply flawed, riddled with bias, and doing real harm.

I use AI sometimes, sure, as a tool. To help generate ideas. To draft alt text. To increase efficiency. To help organize my thoughts into a clearer structure. To create visuals that reflect the diversity I want to see online. But I don’t use it to replace my voice.

And I shouldn’t have to defend my work just because someone thinks it’s “too polished”, “too formulaic”, or “too robotic” to be real.

I’m not AI. I’m just autistic. And I’m a damn good writer.

The Rise of AI Detectors (and Their Flaws)

In the scramble to keep up with rapid advancements in AI, a wave of so-called “AI detection” tools have flooded the internet. These programs claim to be able to identify whether a piece of writing was generated by artificial intelligence.

Sounds good in theory, right? But here’s the problem: they don’t actually work.

These tools boast big promises but deliver unreliable results. According to a report from MIT Sloan¹, AI detection software “has high error rates and can lead instructors to falsely accuse students of misconduct.”

A similar warning from Illinois State University explains that these tools rely on flawed metrics like “perplexity” and “burstiness,” which often mistake structured human writing for AI.

Even OpenAI—the company behind ChatGPT—shut down its own detection tool due to poor accuracy.¹

And yet, these same flawed tools are being used in high-stakes settings, by teachers, publishers, companies, and sometimes even advertising networks, to decide who gets accused of cheating, who gets silenced, or who gets demonetized.

No warning. No appeal. Just a quiet judgment based on tech that doesn’t even do what it says it can.

I’ve run my own writing, completely human and original, through these tools just to see what they say.

Guess what? More often than not, I get flagged. I don’t write like a typical person, maybe. My sentence structure can be formal. My tone can be clear and direct.

But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t written by me.

The irony is painful. AI detectors regularly fail to catch content that is AI-generated, while falsely flagging human writing, especially from autistic or neurodivergent people, multilingual writers, or anyone whose voice doesn’t conform to a narrow, neurotypical standard.

Imagine being told you’re “too well-spoken” to be believable. 😑

And if that sounds familiar, especially to other Black writers or marginalized creatives, it’s because this kind of policing isn’t new, it’s just wearing a techy new outfit. 🙄

And to be clear, I’m not against the idea of flagging low-quality AI content when it’s truly being used to spam, mislead, or exploit readers.

But the technology just isn’t there yet. And until there are clear, fair, and transparent guidelines in place, along with detection tools that actually work, using them to make serious decisions about someone’s work or livelihood feels careless at best and extremely harmful at worst.

¹ Sources:

• AI Detectors Don’t Work — Here’s What to Do Instead, MIT Sloan Teaching & Learning Technologies – Discusses the inaccuracy of AI detection tools.
• AI Detectors, Illinois State University – Explains how AI detectors rely on flawed logic like perplexity and burstiness, and why they’re unreliable for determining authorship.

Neurodivergent Writers Think (and Write) Differently

One of the most frustrating parts of this conversation is how invisible the bias really is.

Sometimes no one outright says anything…but I can feel it. The hesitation. The side-eye. The way someone says, “You wrote this?” or “Wow, this is… really good,” like it’s a warning sign instead of a compliment.

For autistic people like me, writing is often where everything clicks. It’s how I process the world and best communicate.

I’ve always found it easier to express myself through writing than speech. My thoughts flow more freely, my vocabulary shows up stronger, and I have space to self-edit and be thoughtful instead of flustered and rushed.

Writing is where I can be fully understood on my own terms.

But AI detectors and even human readers don’t always account for that. The often formal way I write might come across as “too structured” or “too perfect” to some.

My tone might seem emotionally neutral when I’m just trying to be clear. My rhythm might feel “formulaic,” but it’s how my brain works.

This is where the unspoken bias creeps in. These detectors, and the assumptions that follow, are often built on what neurotypical writing is supposed to sound like.

Anything that deviates from that mold? Flagged.

And for autistic writers, that means our natural communication style becomes something that needs to be defended or explained.

Sometimes I even use AI to help me “soften” or reword things to make me sound more “human”. Not because I’m not a good writer, but because I’ve learned that my natural, direct tone is often misunderstood.

The irony makes me laugh sometimes. 😄 I end up spending more time tweaking AI-assisted drafts to sound less robotic to neurotypical readers than I would if I just wrote it myself!

(Actually, who am I kidding? It takes me hours to write anything, AI-assisted or not, because I overthink everything and have a tendency to overexplain. A 30-second email? Best believe I edited it five times, read it out loud twice, and still worried it might be misinterpreted. You don’t even want to know how long this post took me. 😅)

But I do it because I want to be understood and I know how easily a clear, structured voice like mine can be mistaken for something artificial.

It’s a quiet kind of erasure. And it hurts.

I’ve Been Writing Long Before AI Was Even a Thing

I’ve been a writer for most of my life, long before ChatGPT, AI detectors, or any of this became part of the conversation.

Writing has always come naturally to me. In school, I was the kid in the advanced English classes. In college, I tested into upper-level writing courses as a freshman.

I’ve run my own proofreading business, worked as a corporate staff writer and editor, and have spent over 17 years making a living with words.

So no, I didn’t just “get good” overnight. I didn’t copy and paste something from a bot. This is skill, experience, and hard work.

That’s why it’s incredibly frustrating to have my writing questioned. And to be told the reason why is because it follows patterns someone decided are “AI-like.” What does that even mean?!

That I write in complete sentences? That I know how to structure a paragraph? That I’ve spent years learning how to be clear and concise?

It feels like I’m being punished for being a thoughtful communicator. Like my skillset, the one I’ve built through years of study and practice, has suddenly become suspicious.

And yes, it makes me mad. But it also makes me sad. And anxious.

I’ve built a career doing something I love, and now I have to worry that someone will dismiss it due to some to some invisible metric I can’t see, challenge, or even prepare for.

The Racial and Cultural Undertones Nobody Wants to Talk About

There’s another layer to all of this that makes it even harder to swallow.

As a Black woman, I’m no stranger to being underestimated. I’ve spent my entire life navigating assumptions about what I should sound like, how smart I’m allowed to be, and how much credit I’m supposed to get for the work I do.

So when someone reads my writing and assumes it couldn’t possibly be mine or that I must be using AI, it doesn’t always feel like an honest mistake. Sometimes it feels coded.

And when those biases are built into the very tools and systems being used to decide who gets to be seen, heard, or paid?

That kind of built-in bias has real consequences: for people’s work, their visibility, and their livelihoods.

AI as a Creative Ally (Not a Threat)

Let me be clear: I’m pro-GOOD CONTENT.

I’ll be the first to admit that I use AI in my workflow. But I use it thoughtfully. Sometimes it helps me get started when I’m stuck on a headline or trying to organize a post. Sometimes it helps me draft alt text faster to help make my content more accessible.

For example, I use and highly recommend a free ChatGPT tool called She Knows Alt Text. It’s great for creating image descriptions for screen readers (tools used by people with vision impairments or those who rely on text-to-speech tech) without burning out.

And when I need visuals for my blog? AI image generation has helped me create diverse, vibrant graphics that my readers enjoy and ones that reflects the diversity and inspiration I want to see in the world, a world that’s sorely underrepresented in stock photography.

I use AI to help support my voice. To fill in gaps. To help me brainstorm, save time, and keep me creating, especially when my executive function is on strike (thanks ADHD lol). But every sentence, every edit, every post still has me written all over it.

What I don’t support is this black-and-white thinking where any use of AI is seen as suspicious. Or worse, labeled “excessive” without a clear definition.

The fear around AI has led to a kind of creative witch hunt, where even thoughtful, skilled creators are being lumped in with spam sites simply for using tools that have become a normal part of modern content creation.

And in some cases, it opens the door to bullying—mass-reporting, whisper campaigns, or targeting creators out of jealousy or bias rather than any real misuse. I’ve been bullied before. I know what it feels like to be targeted for doing things differently. It. Sucks.

AI can absolutely be misused. But it can also be a powerful ally.

Especially for creators like me who’ve had to find workarounds, build systems, and adapt in a world that wasn’t built with us in mind.

The Bigger Problem: Policing Creativity

In addition, what started as a conversation about AI has turned into something much bigger: creative gatekeeping.

When you’re constantly worried about being ‘flagged’, it’s hard to take creative risks. It’s hard to try new formats, test new content ideas, or even experiment with your own writing voice without wondering, Will this look like “excessive AI” to someone? Will I be punished for evolving and trying new things?

It’s very interesting to me that’s the part no one’s talking about yet. Policing creativity often ends up targeting the very people who are pouring their hearts into this work.

Especially neurodivergent creators, Black creators, disabled creators, multilingual creators, and anyone else whose work might not fit cleanly into the expected mold.

There’s already so much pressure on content creators to keep up with changing platforms, shifting algorithms, and audience demands. Add in vague AI policies with no transparency, and it creates a system that thrives on fear instead of innovation.

We become afraid to grow, pivot, or experiment.

Final Thoughts

I didn’t write this to prove anything. I wrote it because I’m tired and I want my voice to be heard. Tired of feeling like I have to defend my work, tired of being misread, and tired of watching a space I love turn hostile.

AI isn’t the enemy. Misuse, fear, and bias are.

I’m not defending spammy, low-effort content. What I am against is vague rules, inconsistent enforcement, and a system where some people have taken it upon themselves to decide what “excessive” AI use is without transparency or fairness.

The truth is, AI isn’t going anywhere. The tools will keep evolving. And so will we. What we need now are clear standards, better conversations, and a whole lot more empathy.

We deserve better. We deserve to create without fear. We deserve space to grow, experiment, and evolve, without being treated like suspects.

So if you’ve made it this far, I hope you’ll take a moment to check your assumptions about what good writing “should” look like, who’s capable of creating it, and how we talk about AI without erasing human voices in the process.

Thanks for reading, especially if this isn’t the kind of post you normally expect from me. I appreciate you being here. Now, back to my regularly scheduled blog content and helping you build a life you love! 😉 💕

Until next time,

Further Reading

Want to explore more perspectives on this topic? Here are a few articles and discussions that dig deeper into the intersection of AI, neurodiversity, and bias:

• Professor with autism mistaken for AI bot: A powerful example of how neurodivergent communication styles are often misinterpreted by flawed AI detection tools.
• Does anyone else write “like AI”?: A Reddit thread where autistic users reflect on how their writing gets mistaken for machine-generated text and how dehumanizing that can feel.
• “I received a first but it felt tainted and undeserved”: Inside the university AI cheating crisis: A look at how students are being wrongfully accused of using AI, and the emotional toll that kind of suspicion can have.
• Plagiarism, autism spectrum disorder and AI: A thoughtful forum thread discussing how AI detection and plagiarism accusations often fail to account for neurodivergent ways of writing.
• OpenAI discontinues its AI writing detector due to low rate of accuracy: Even OpenAI, the company behind ChatGPT, acknowledged how unreliable detection tools can be, and quietly shut theirs down in 2023.
• For Some Autistic People, ChatGPT Is a Lifeline – WIRED This article highlights how AI tools like ChatGPT can help autistic individuals navigate communication challenges, social interactions, and everyday tasks.
• Challenge the Use of AI Checkers – University of Nebraska–Lincoln An academic breakdown of the problems with AI detection tools, including their inaccuracy, lack of transparency, and potential to harm students unfairly.