That afternoon was no different from the hundreds of afternoons before it. I opened YouTube Studio on my phone, hoping to see the numbers I always waited for every afternoon. It wasn’t the dashboard page that appeared. Nor was it the number of views and subscribers on my channel.
But,
A notification filled the screen—
A notification that changed that afternoon.
My channel had been banned.
My eyes stared at the screen, reading the notification over and over, hoping something would change.
My hands trembled as I continued reading the notification.
I clicked the refresh button.
However, nothing changed.
The night before, the numbers were still there. Over $700 in the monetization tab. Just two more days until payout.
“Bro, my channel got banned,” I sent a quick message along with a screenshot of my account.
“File an appeal, bro. You can just Google it or ask ChatGPT how to do it,” replied my friend from far away.
I clicked the “Appeal” button, then waited. A few hours later, the response came. Brief. My appeal was denied.
I had told my wife that once the money hit my bank account, I’d take her and the kids out to dinner. At our favorite restaurant with the big playground.
The children were very excited to hear this. They even ran around shouting with joy.
Now, that promise is just a promise.
My journey began two years earlier, when I gradually stopped writing. I opened my Ecency account less and less often—until I stopped opening it altogether.
Something “shinier” than writing caught my attention.
Every time I opened social media, there were always people showing off AI images and videos that were even cooler than the day before.
“Wow, that’s so cool.” That’s what I thought when I saw it all.
“How on earth do they make those?”
Not wanting to be left behind, I diligently hunted for cool prompts.
I spent my evenings trying out various prompts I found on social media.
A year passed, and I’d probably generated hundreds or even thousands of images and videos. All that did was leave my hard drive gasping for breath as available space dwindled.
My hard drive was probably the one that worked the hardest that whole year.
But I’ve only posted a few of them on social media.
Not because they all failed.
No.
But because I started to realize something. I produced a lot of files, but only a few of them felt like actual works of art.
“Hey, bro, want to learn how to build a music channel together?” Someone I know on Threads asked me.
"Of course, bro!" I didn’t hesitate for long—I accepted his invitation right away. And just like that, my journey on YouTube officially began.
Five months have passed, and dozens of videos have been uploaded to my channel. As I entered my sixth month, one of my videos set a new record.
100,000 views, then 500,000 views, and finally 1.5 million views.
I kept refreshing YouTube Studio just to check the numbers a few times, afraid the figures on the screen would change.
When it hit 2 million views, I called my wife over, hugged her tightly, and kissed her.
My wife just shook her head at my behavior.
Google approved my channel for monetization, and I started seeing my earnings grow every day.
One month after being approved for monetization, my earnings had already exceeded $700. Two days before the payout, it all vanished without a trace.
For two years, I’ve been pursuing AI, because I thought technology was the answer.
Lately, I’ve realized that AI only speeds up the process.
It doesn’t make someone stop scrolling, crying, laughing, or remembering a piece of work once the screen is turned off.
What keeps someone engaged in reading or watching a video is still human emotion.
Earlier this month, I logged back into ecency. It’s still the same account, with my last post from two years ago.
The old accounts I followed and the communities I joined, were still active, with dozens of new posts.
New features, many new members, and of course, various new stories I discovered.
I’m back here, not to chase trends. I’m no longer chasing what’s viral.
But I’m here to return. To reconnect with the world I left behind so long ago. Maybe some people see my two-year journey as a detour. But that detour has now brought me back home.
Photo by Matheus Bertelli from Pexels
