I’ve been wondering lately whether AI is becoming what the internet was for my generation.

Not because they’re the same technology, but because they seem to be creating the same divide. Some people are embracing it wholeheartedly. Others are convinced it’s a fad. And many are sitting on the sidelines wondering whether it’s really worth learning.

It made me think back to middle school.

I attended boarding school in Pennsylvania, and there was an option for parents to pay extra to have dial up internet installed in our dorm rooms. I remember my dad asking 12 year old me if I wanted it.

“Nah,” I said.

Why would I need the internet?

A few girls in my dorm had it. On weekends or after study hall they’d log into AOL chat rooms, talking to friends back home or complete strangers.

Neither of those things appealed to me.

If I wanted to talk to my friends, I could just call them. And chatting with strangers on the internet seemed…well…kind of weird.

I couldn’t imagine why anyone would pay for that.

Then, two years later, everything changed.

I transferred to the American International School in Dhaka. Suddenly I was halfway around the world from the United States, missing my friends, family, and everything familiar.

The internet went from something I didn’t think I needed to something I couldn’t imagine living without.

Hotmail became my connection to home. MSN Messenger became my social life. And Ask Jeeves felt like magic. Instead of digging through books or hoping the library had what I needed, I could type in a question and instantly get help with homework or research.

Looking back, it’s funny that I almost passed on what would become one of the defining technologies of my generation.

Fast forward another twenty years.

When I was in government, we were late adopters of AI.

There was a healthy amount of skepticism, and for good reason. We handled sensitive information every day, so there were real concerns about what data was being shared, where it was going, and whether these tools could be trusted. Access wasn’t widespread. Only a handful of people had licenses, and it was difficult to make a compelling case that AI would meaningfully improve our work.

At the time, it felt like something interesting that we’d eventually figure out.

Meanwhile, much of the rest of the world was beginning to embrace it.

Looking back, I can’t help but laugh a little. During my years on hiring panels, I remember reading countless cover letters that seemed almost improbably well written. They were polished, perfectly tailored to the position, and somehow managed to hit every keyword in the job announcement.

At the time, I thought, Wow, people are getting really good at writing cover letters.

In retrospect…they probably weren’t.

They were simply using AI before many of us had seriously considered it.

Ironically, after leaving government, AI became one of the most useful tools in my own job search. It helped me modernize a resume that hadn’t needed updating in years. It helped me brainstorm, edit, and tailor cover letters far more efficiently than I ever could on my own.

Now I find myself at another crossroads.

Part of me wants to fully embrace AI. Learn everything I can. Experiment with it. Understand how it will shape the future of work and maybe even build a second career around it.

Another part of me wonders if I should simply observe from the sidelines. I’ve spent nearly two decades building expertise in areas that AI increasingly claims it can assist with. Is learning to use it adapting to the future, or helping accelerate the disruption of my own profession?

It’s an uncomfortable question.

When I was 12, I didn’t think I needed the internet.

Today, at 42, I’m asking myself a remarkably similar question about AI.

The difference is that this time I know what happened the last time I underestimated a transformative technology.

I don’t know whether AI will ultimately become as revolutionary as the internet. History rarely repeats itself exactly.

But I do know this: I’d rather learn enough to understand where it’s taking us than dismiss it because it feels unfamiliar.

If the internet taught me anything, it’s that the biggest risk isn’t always embracing a new technology.

Sometimes it’s assuming you won’t need it.