If there’s one thing tech is great at, it’s dazzling us.

New tools, new apps, new “life-changing” features - every day feels like a mini firework show. And don’t get me wrong… I love it. I’m the girl who gets excited over beta invites and has an embarrassing number of browser extensions.

But somewhere in all the noise, I started noticing something strange:

The more advanced our tools became, the easier it was to forget the people behind the screen.

Not the developers or CEOs (though they matter too).

I mean us. The humans tapping, scrolling, refreshing, and occasionally wondering why our to-do list has 47 items but we wrote only four of them.


The Moment It Hit Me

A few months ago, I was in a café - laptop open, headphones on, coffee in hand (classic Hazel setup). I was deep into a new AI tool I wanted to try. The café was buzzing, but the glow of the screen had pulled me into my own little universe.

Then something small happened:

A girl at the table next to me sighed. Not the frustrated “my WiFi hates me” sigh.

This one was tired… deeply human.

She was staring at a job application portal. I glanced at her screen (accidentally, I promise!). It showed one of those “Upload your resume” forms - the kind that asks you to fill in everything that’s already on your resume.

She looked defeated.

And I suddenly realized: technology is supposed to help us, but sometimes it forgets we exist.

Behind every screen is someone:

Tech becomes powerful not when it automates everything, but when it understands these small, quiet needs.


The Invisible Stories in Every Click

Every tool we use - AI, apps, marketing platforms - collects data points. But behind those data points are stories we never hear:

We see the metrics, the dashboards, the graphs.

But not the emotions, the hopes, the quiet battles.

And honestly?

That’s my favorite part of working in tech marketing - the human threads woven into everything we build.


What If We Designed for Humans First?

Imagine if tools were built with the questions:

“Who is this for?”

“What are they feeling?”

“What burden can we remove?”

Maybe job portals would actually read the resumes they ask for (a revolutionary idea, I know).

Maybe AI platforms would stop assuming everyone knows prompt engineering.

Maybe apps would help us grow without guilting us into a productivity Olympics.

Small shifts. Big impact.

Because the best technology isn’t the one with the most features - It’s the one that makes someone exhale and say,

“Wow… this actually helps.”


What I Hope to Do With My Work

I write about tech because I love it.

But I also write because I want us to remember the heart inside all the hardware and software.

I want:

If my words help even one person feel a little more confident navigating this digital world, then that’s the story I want to keep telling.


A Gentle Reminder

Next time you open your laptop, tap your phone, or start a new tool, pause for a second.

Remember the real, breathing, growing, imperfect human on the other side of the screen.

Remember you.

Because behind every click is a story -

and those stories are the most important part of tech we keep forgetting.