A letter to women feeling a bit overwhelmed right now.

Hey Coco started in my living room. Five women, a couch, my kids camping table disguised as a coffee table, and an honest conversation about AI, which has followed with more in other living rooms. For those who aren't quite ready to sit down and talk about it face-to-face yet, or just need a little more time and space - this letter is for you.

Please take what resonates. Leave what doesn't. 

🤍

To whom it may concern.

Where we came from.

I grew up in the late 80s and early 90s. My childhood looked like playing in our cul-de-sac, walking to the shops to buy 5 cent lollies, riding bikes, doing cartwheels, playing elastics. We had one TV and a Sega and the closest thing to a device was my Tamagotchi. We were just humans being human. And life was so good.

I remember the blaring noise of dial-up internet. Getting home from school and logging onto MSN Messenger to talk to the friends I'd just seen an hour ago - it was thrilling. My Nokia 3310 and the pre-paid credit that seemed to chew through $30 on SMS messages very quickly. And even through uni, I typed every assignment myself, caught the bus, printed it, and handed it in - in person.

This is when the blur of connected, life-intertwining technology really started for us. And then as soon as we started using smartphones, it sped up dramatically.

Where we are now.

If I fast forward to 2026, I look at where life is and it is genuinely scary. When I pick my kids up from school, all of us lingering outside the classroom are looking down at our phones. We're either trying to be hyper-productive and get more done than has ever been possible for any living generation - or we're numbing ourselves because we are all so overstimulated.

And here's what I think about the word artificial. So much of our world has been becoming more and more artificial - we just haven't been labelling it that. We put filters over our photos, trending commercial songs behind videos of our lives, and edit the daylights out of them. We have made our real lives look better than they are by adding artificial layers to them. Then we all consume, consume, consume. It's a bit of a vicious cycle.

Why this moment matters.

If you've been feeling stuck around AI - and every time you get close, something pulls you back - I want you to know that feeling makes complete sense. It is not weakness. It is not you being bad with technology.
It is how you are wired.

For thousands of years, women have been the ones who assess before we act. We wait until something is safe before we dive in. While men were wired to hunt, we were wired to protect. That instinct has kept families alive for generations. So, when every message about AI has felt overwhelming, fear-driven, and not built for our life - of course we stepped back. That wasn't a mistake. It was wisdom.

What we're all waiting for isn't another warning. It's an invitation.

We are living through the rollout of the most significant technology in human history - and we are doing it as women who still remember what a deeply human childhood felt like. We remember the cartwheels, the slush puppies, the telephone with a curly cord. We remember life before the doomscroll. And that memory is not nothing.

That memory is actually everything right now.

Because here's what I believe: the most important place AI needs to be shaped is inside our homes. Not only in boardrooms or government buildings - but around our kitchen tables, in our school pick-up conversations, in the way we talk to our kids about what's coming. And the women who grew up with cartwheels and curly cords and a childhood that was deeply, beautifully human - we are exactly the ones who should be bringing that into this conversation.

What I found.

In early 2025, I realised I wasn't going to have a choice in the long run. As a Brand and Marketing Director, I knew I would need to learn how to speak AI - so I figured I might as well embrace it early. After a few months of playing with some basic tools, I took myself offline for three days of intensive training.

At the end of the course, when I stood up to present to 12 other women, I couldn't speak. I burst into tears. In the moment it felt a little embarrassing. But I now look back and think it was actually quite beautiful - because the thoughts swirling in my mind weren't about efficiency or productivity. They were about how big the change coming really is, and how much I could feel it was going to transform my life.

After almost 18 months of using AI extensively, here is what I know.

The technology is incredible. Beyond anything we have ever seen. It will change lives. It will take jobs - including mine, which is part of why I started this.

But what I have also found is that it has given me back my time, my thinking space, my creativity. My many thoughts aren't swirling anymore - they have somewhere else to land. I condense huge amounts of information, which brings clarity. I talk through my fears, plan and rehearse important conversations, and I've become more confident. Instead of letting worries sit inside my head and never see the light of day, I speak them out and feel more grounded and grateful than I ever have.
But the thing I didn't expect, and what I love the most - is a sense of wonder and possibility that loops all the other things together and amplifies everything.

There is no way I would be writing a letter to women and putting it on the internet without the coaching, mentoring, time-saving and discipline that using AI has given me. I wouldn't have had the confidence, the clarity of thought, or the time and energy. AI made it possible for me to take this message - one I deeply want to share with women everywhere - and put it out into the world. And that in itself I think is pretty special.

What I want for you.

This shift into AI is not about being techy. It's quite the opposite. What AI needs is conversation. Thoughtfully structured, highly contextual, deeply human conversation. And this is what women excel at. We always have.

We have never lived through anything like this before. Not as women, not as mothers, not even as a generation. And if there was ever a moment that deserved a real conversation, in a room with people we trust - it's this one.

That's exactly where Hey Coco begins.

With love,
Clare 🤍

PS. If any of the above resonated with you, or made you stop and think for a moment - please send this link to a friend.