A Letter to My Daughters — Mere Bacchon,
For a world where AI makes it harder to tell what’s real.
When I was your age, I believed expression was everything.
How well you spoke, how confidently you carried yourself, how cleverly you told a story. These were the skills I chased, thinking they would carry me to success. And for a while, they did.
But now, approaching 50, I see it differently.
Expression without depth is just noise.
In your world—where AI can craft polished paragraphs in seconds—this truth is even more important. We’re moving too fast. We scroll, swipe, skim. No one stops to ask: Was this written by a person or a machine?
And in that rush, there’s a quiet danger:
Why learn deeply when AI can do it instantly?
But here’s the truth: there’s a difference between looking skilled and being skilled.
- A doctor feels what stress does to a body.
- An engineer knows how materials behave in the real world.
- A leader senses the room, not just the words.
- A creator connects, not because they’re clever—but because they’ve failed enough to understand what matters.
These aren’t surface tricks.
They live in your body, your instinct, your quiet confidence—earned only through time, failure, and honest work.
I’m not here to warn you against AI.
Use it. Learn it. The best of your generation will use it beautifully.
But use it from a place of real skill.
Some people use AI to skip the work.
The ones who stand out will use it to build on what they already know.
That difference? It always shows—with time.
If I could go back, I’d spend more time learning how to learn.
- Learn to sit with not knowing.
- Learn to focus, really focus.
- Learn to wait—it pays off.
These are the skills beneath all skills.
Master one thing deeply, and the rest begins to make sense.
I can’t tell you which careers will last. The world’s too unpredictable.
But I can tell you this: the work that endures will demand more than your mind.
It will need your heart. Your hands. Your sense of what’s right.
Pick a path where the process matters—not just the prize.
Others will rush.
They’ll look shiny. Fast. Impressive.
Don’t chase them.
Build slowly. Stack real skills.
Stay curious. Stay honest—with yourself and others—about what you truly know and what you’re just repeating.
In the end, those with real depth will stand tallest.
The rest? They’ll vanish with the next version update.
You don’t need to be perfect. Not even close.
You just need to try. To care.
To be honest about where you are—and where you want to go.
And I promise—
I’ll always care more about your real growth than your perfect image.
I’ll always be proud of your effort, your experiments, even your mess-ups.
And I’ll always remind you—every time you forget—
that in a world full of filters and fakes, your realness is your biggest strength.
With all my love,
Your Papa
(P.S. I’m always happiest when you guide me—whether on Canva or a new AI update. 😊)