Words that are mine

■ Looking back at my first attempt to build a blog as a business (Part 2). How commercial imperatives gradually shaped both my thoughts and my website’s content, until I no longer recognised my own voice.

October 2025,

It’s crazy how much can change in just a few days.

Last week, I decided to go back to studying and to stop chasing the mirage of online income. After several months of writing articles for purely commercial ends, I suddenly got my voice back.

From the moment I no longer expected my blog to make me money, I was free. Free to step outside my editorial niche. Free to think and write what I wanted.

What struck me most was how dependent I had become on Google’s algorithm.

I had put myself on a hamster wheel, trying to maintain a relentless publishing pace. The pressure to succeed locked me into a commercial mindset.

I watched myself drift further away from what had made me want to write in the first place. The choice of my topics no longer belonged to me; it belonged to the niche and the strategy that served it.

What sells? How do you write to sell better? Which title? Which cluster of interlinked posts? Which landing page? Which hook for Pinterest? Not sure? Ask AI.

Before long, I wasn’t really writing anymore. I was assembling, rearranging and polishing AI-generated text.

With my head down, I tried to care about a race that bored me more with every passing week. The only thing keeping me there was the promise of money, yet I wasn’t earning any. It all felt strangely hollow. Nothing inspired me anymore, and the thought of writing the next post had become a chore.

With no improvement in sight, it was time to stop and rethink my options.

The relief came almost instantly. Once I had let go and committed to returning to my studies, the pressure disappeared. I went from starting with AI-generated drafts that I painstakingly humanised to writing this post myself, with AI serving only as an editor.

Above all, the words were mine.

I had stepped outside the commercial matrix.