I love PowerPoint.

I know that might not be the coolest sentence ever written, but it’s true.

For years, creating presentations has been one of the ways I help people bring their ideas to life. I don’t simply put words on slides. I organize the story, find the message hiding inside too much information, create a visual rhythm, and think about what the audience needs to understand, feel and remember.

For years, people came to me with their numbers, updates and rough ideas, and I helped turn them into presentations they felt confident delivering.

With AI tools now able to build outlines, rewrite content, summarize information and generate slides, more people can handle parts of that process themselves.

And if I’m being completely honest, I had to sit back and process what that meant for me.

There was a practical side of me that understood it immediately. Of course people would use a tool that helped them work faster. I use AI too. I have seen how quickly it can take a blank page and give someone a place to begin.

But there was another side of me—the human side—that felt the loss.

It wasn’t only about having fewer presentations to create. It was about watching a piece of my professional identity shift in real time. Something I had been known for, something people once relied on me to do, was becoming easier for them to do without me.

The part of AI adoption we don’t talk about enough

We talk about efficiency. We talk about productivity. We talk about everything AI can do. But we don’t always talk about what it feels like when it begins doing part of your job—especially a part you genuinely enjoy.

I could resist it. I could become protective of the old process and wait for people to need me in the same way again.

Or I could adapt.

I’m choosing to adapt.

AI may be able to generate a presentation, but creating slides was never the entirety of my value. My value is understanding the purpose behind the presentation. It is knowing which information matters, recognizing what is missing, challenging a message that doesn’t quite land, and making sure the final story connects with the people in the room.

AI can create options. I bring context, judgment, brand knowledge, empathy and an understanding of the audience.

That means my role is changing from being the person who always creates the slides to being the person who helps make the communication stronger. Sometimes I’ll still build the presentation. Other times, I may help shape the story, establish the standards, improve what AI produced, or teach someone how to use these tools more effectively.

And sometimes, people won’t need my help at all.

That last part may still sting a little. Growth and adaptation don’t require pretending that change is easy.

A better question

This moment is pushing me to ask a better question. Instead of asking, “How do I protect the tasks I’ve always done?” I’m asking, “Where can my experience create value that a tool cannot provide on its own?”

The answer is not to compete with AI on speed.

It is to become better at the distinctly human parts of the work: strategy, creativity, discernment, connection, leadership and turning information into something meaningful.

AI is changing my job. I’m sure it will continue to change it.

But it doesn’t get to decide that I no longer have value.

That part is still mine to define.

One final confession

I told ChatGPT how I was feeling about all of this, and it whipped out this blog post that pretty much nailed it.

Maybe that is the point. AI didn’t experience the shift or feel that strange mix of pride, loss and determination. I did. But it helped me find the words—and together, we turned the feeling into something I was ready to share.