Naina lay in bed, her phone screen illuminating her face in the dark. Another day had passed, wasted in mindless scrolling. Instagram reels, YouTube shorts, random AI-generated life advice—she consumed it all, convincing herself that she was “learning.” But deep down, she knew she wasn’t.

Her laptop sat on the desk, untouched. The half-written code she started weeks ago remained frozen in time. She had told herself she’d finish it today. She had told herself the same thing yesterday. And the day before that.

Instead, she turned to her favorite escape—ChatGPT.

“How can I stop procrastinating?”

She had asked this question before. Many times. The AI always gave logical, structured advice. Break tasks into smaller steps. Remove distractions. Set deadlines. It all made sense. It even sounded inspiring.

Yet, she remained the same.

She opened another tab. “How to become rich?”

A thousand articles, a million success stories. She devoured them all. But when it came to actually doing the work? She always found an excuse.

“I’ll start tomorrow.”

Tomorrow never came.

She wanted success, but she didn’t want to struggle. She wanted to be skilled, but she never pushed herself. She relied on ChatGPT not just for coding help, but for making decisions, validating her thoughts, even reassuring her emotions. It was easier to ask AI what to do than to figure it out herself.

One day, she opened her laptop, determined to code without ChatGPT. She stared at the screen. The blinking cursor felt like a taunt. She typed a few lines and ran the program.

Error.

Panic gripped her. She copied the error message and instinctively opened ChatGPT. But before pasting, she hesitated. Maybe she should try to debug it herself.

Seconds passed. Then minutes. Then an hour. Her head ached. She didn’t even know where to start. The temptation grew stronger.

“Why suffer when ChatGPT can solve this in seconds?”

She gave in. She pasted the error, got the solution, copied it, and moved on.

Success? Maybe. But the satisfaction never came.

Days turned into weeks. Naina continued her cycle—scrolling, overthinking, relying on AI for every answer. She told herself she was getting better. But was she?

One night, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling. A quiet fear settled in her chest. What if I never change? What if I always stay like this?

She imagined her future self—still confused, still dependent, still dreaming but never acting. The thought terrified her.

For the first time, she didn’t ask ChatGPT what to do.

She got up. She turned on her laptop. And she started—on her own.

But starting was the easy part. The real challenge came the next day. She sat at her desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard. The initial spark of determination had dimmed, replaced by the usual self-doubt. What if I fail? What if I waste another day?

She opened her code editor. The project stared back at her, lifeless and incomplete. The weight of all her unfinished tasks pressed against her chest. She wanted to reach for her phone, to escape, to distract herself—but she stopped. Not this time.

She typed a few lines. Ran the code. Another error.

Her mind screamed at her to check ChatGPT. Just one peek. Just a tiny hint. But she forced herself to think. She opened the documentation, searched through her own notes. She struggled, frustration bubbling inside her. Every second felt like an eternity.

Hours passed. The error still loomed. Her brain felt fried. Why am I even doing this? she thought. Is it even worth it?

She pushed her chair back and lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The negative thoughts swarmed in.

I’ll never be good at this.I’m just fooling myself.Maybe I should just stick to getting help. It’s faster anyway.

Her phone buzzed. Another notification, another escape. She grabbed it without thinking and lost herself in another endless scroll.

Minutes turned into hours. The sun had set outside, and her laptop screen had gone dark. She had done it again. She had run away.

The guilt settled in, heavier than ever. Is this my life now? Watching others succeed while I stay the same?

Tears welled up in her eyes. She wasn’t lazy. She wasn’t incapable. She was just afraid—afraid of failing, afraid of struggling, afraid that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as smart as she wanted to believe.

But avoiding the struggle wasn’t making her stronger. It was keeping her weak.

She sat up. Opened her laptop again. The same error stared at her. But this time, she didn’t let it defeat her.

She read through the code again, line by line. It felt like swimming through fog, but she pushed forward. An hour passed. Then another. Then finally—

She found it. A tiny mistake. One she could have fixed hours ago if she had just believed in herself.

She corrected it. Pressed run. The program worked.

Relief washed over her. But more than that—pride. This wasn’t just about fixing a bug. This was proof that she could do it. That she wasn’t just a mindless consumer of AI-generated solutions. That she had the ability to think, to solve, to create.

That night, as she lay in bed, she still had doubts. She still had fears. But for the first time, she had something else, too—a reason to believe that change was possible.

Tomorrow, she might struggle again. She might relapse into old habits. But now, she knew one thing for certain.

She could fight back.

And one day, she would win.