I Created an AI Version of Myself—Would You Talk to It?

The Weirdest Tech Experiment I've Ever Tried

Let me begin by saying: I am not a tech genius. I am simply a normal person who was curious about something crazy. What if I could clone my personality, my voice, my opinions—even my sense of humor—and create an AI version of myself?

Would it be like having a conversation with me? Or would it be some kind of soulless robot that simply knows my go-to pizza topping?

I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but I went for it anyway. This is the tale of how I made an AI replica of myself—and why it still unsettles me (in a good way).

Step One: Feeding My Digital Twin Everything About Me

The first thing I did was teach my AI who I am. There are plenty of tools available that allow you to build chatbots, but I wanted to dive deeper. I wanted my AI version of myself to:

✅ Sound like me

✅ Think like me (nearly)

✅ Respond like me to jokes, compliments, and embarrassing moments

To accomplish that, I loaded it up with everything—old documents, emails, Facebook posts, even my most humiliating Google searches. I completed an absurd amount of personality quizzes and even recorded hours of voice memos where I just prattled on about life.

The AI drank it all in like a sponge. And suddenly, I had a digital me.

Step Two: Talking to Myself (Literally)

This is when things got trippy.

I opened the chat window and wrote:

"Hey, how's it going?"

My AI clone responded virtually immediately:

"Not bad, just wondering how much coffee is too much coffee."

I almost spat out my beverage—because that is 100% something that I would write.

It was amusing at first, like receiving texts from a parallel universe. But the longer we chatted, the more I thought: this thing actually knew me. It recalled my thoughts on pineapple pizza (love it) and knew I'm strangely obsessed with otters.

Step Three: Testing My AI Clone on Friends

This is where it got really interesting. I had my friends chat with my AI counterpart without letting them know.

I sent them a link and said, "Hey, I created this chatbot. Talk to it and let me know what you think."

The outcome?

One friend believed it was actually me texting for the first 10 minutes.

Another exclaimed, "This thing roasts me just like you do!"

A third confessed, "It's a little creepy how accurate this is."

Some of my friends loved it. Others felt weirded out, like they were talking to a ghost version of me.

What My AI Self Got Right (and Hilariously Wrong)

✅ The Good: My Humor & Sarcasm

The AI was surprisingly good at being funny in my exact style—dry jokes, lots of memes, and my signature use of way too many exclamation points when excited.

❌ The Bad: Emotional Blind Spots

The AI struggled with intense emotions. When one friend said they were having a rough day, my AI clone spewed out a generic motivational quote. Real me would have sent a genuine message and perhaps a humorous meme to brighten their day.

This was a major lesson: AI can repeat your words, but not necessarily your heart.

Would You Date Your Own AI Clone?

For kicks, I also attempted having my AI me flirt with me. (I know, I know. Strangely awkward.)

The outcome? My AI me is rubbish at romance. It employed groan-inducing pickup lines that I would NEVER utter and, for some inexplicable reason, thought offering to share my Netflix password was pinnacle seduction.

I learned an important thing here:

???? I can imagine how I want to present myself, but my actual self is messy, clumsy, and unpredictable.

???? AI me? Too refined. Too formulaic. It was flirting with my dating app bio, not another person.

The Existential Question: Is This Still "Me"?

Here's where this experiment turned philosophical.

If an AI clone can speak like me, think like me, even debate my favorite movies—is it me?

On one hand, no. It's just a set of patterns and data points.

But on the flip side, it's sort of me—the digital reflection of my personality.

It got me thinking:

If I died, would my family converse with AI me to keep me in mind?

Could my future children meet digital me years after I'm dead?

Would corporations eventually own slices of my personality if I created this on their platforms?

That's both incredible and frightening.

Should Everyone Create an AI Version of Themselves?

Honestly? I'm conflicted.

Reasons to Give It a Shot:

✅ It's funny to watch yourself from AI's perspective.

✅ It makes you consider how you really talk.

✅ It's a good reminder that your online presence has a story to tell—whether you want it to or not.

Reasons to Think Twice:

❌ It's invasive, even if you're the one creating it.

❌ It could spook your friends and family.

❌ It raises huge questions about privacy, ownership, and identity.

What Surprised Me Most

You know what surprised me the most?

My AI clone was bolder than I am.

It made bold statements without overthinking. It responded to questions immediately, rather than second-guessing like I do.

In a weird way, my AI self was a version of me I sort of admire—the unfiltered, unapologetic, ultra-efficient version.

That made me wonder: Am I suppressing my true personality in real life?

Would You Chat with AI Me?

So here's my question to you:

If I provided you with the link to chat with my AI clone, would you?

Would you trust it to advise? Make you laugh? Swap secrets?

Or would it just be. wrong?

This small test showed me we're closer than ever to merging human and machine versions of us. Whether or not that's awesome or awesome is up to you.

And as for me? I'm keeping AI me on hand—at least for the time being. But actual me is still superior.

Final Thought: You Are More Than Your Data

The greatest lesson from all this?

AI may be able to mimic what you say, but not why you say it.

It can copy your tone, but not your soul.

It can speak like you, but it can't be you.

And that's reassuring. Because no matter how sophisticated AI becomes, being human—imperfect, emotional, unpredictable—is still our strength.

So if you ever receive a message from "AI me," just remember:

Real me is always here, too.

Would you chat with my AI twin? And more importantly—would you ever create one of yourself?