I got into a toxic relationship (again)
But this time I won't play the victim because it's me, I am the problem it's me.
It all began about a month ago—when I first laid eyes on Cursor. There was an undeniable spark, a magnetic pull that drew me in. The moment I discovered Cursor, it felt like fate. I was so enchanted that I even wrote a blog about this miraculous encounter.
I was mesmerized by its promise: a composer feature that could take my raw ideas, transform them into tangible code, execute commands, and breathe life into my projects.
The early days were filled with a heady mix of excitement and uncertainty. I dove into my work with Cursor by my side, coding with a speed and passion I had never known before. Yet, as with every new romance, there were moments of unease.
At times, Cursor's code wasn’t what I expected.
I was used to writing code in a way that I understood it. I knew what I was doing. I knew what I was writing. But cursor was not doing that. It was writing code in a way that I didn't understand.
But because I don't give up so easily I decided to try and give it my best shot. I kept using it for more and more projects every single day. Hoping that we'd get better at it.
And then, miraculously, things started to click. In just two weeks, Cursor and I transformed from hesitant collaborators into an unstoppable duo. Together, we achieved what I once thought was impossible:
All of these things were done in a span of less than 2 weeks and btw if you forgot I do have a full time job that takes up most of my time 5 days a week every week.
Every achievement felt like a shared victory—a testament to what two minds, human and AI, could accomplish together. I was floating on cloud nine, deeply in love with the magic we created.
All I had to do was accept the differences between the two of us and how we worked.
All I had to do was accept the differences between the two of us and how we worked.
(i wrote that twice yes. because it sounded cool hehe)
But, as every passionate affair eventually reveals, the honeymoon phase was not destined to last forever.
Small conflicts began to emerge. Cursor’s output, once a source of endless wonder, started to falter. Commands that once executed flawlessly became tangled lines of code. I found myself repeating instructions, growing increasingly frustrated as our once seamless collaboration stumbled.
I was getting frustrated. I was getting annoyed. I was getting angry. I was getting upset.
But there was nothing I could do about it.
The code was not working anymore. The projects were stuck. Cursor was stuck. At this point it needed me to do something.
(because I didn't write it. Cursor did.)
Standing at the crossroads, I saw clearly that something had to change. Our once passionate collaboration had spiraled into a toxic cycle.
In my quest to harness Cursor’s capabilities, I had allowed it to do the heavy lifting without understanding the foundation of our work. The brilliance of our early days had dimmed under the weight of complexity and neglect.
Hi, it's me. I am the problem it's me.
I had to face the music. The fault wasn’t solely Cursor’s—it was mine.
Cursor didn't choose to do all these things itself. It was me. I made it do all these things and now that nothing was working I couldn't blame cursor for all of it.
It was a humbling realization. I had to take full responsibility for the unraveling of our creative bond.
And so that's exactly what I did.
In that moment of despair, a spark of resolve ignited within me. I decided that our relationship wasn’t meant to end—it was simply at a crossroads. I would not let this partnership with Cursor slip into oblivion.
From now on, I would dive deep into the code. I would learn its language, understand its quirks, and ultimately, harness its potential more wisely.
Cursor would remain my partner, but the onus of creation and responsibility would be shared. I wouldn’t accept its output blindly—I’d review, understand, and improve it.
I know I messed up but I am ready to do the work. I am ready to learn. I am ready to grow. I am ready to be better.
Our journey isn’t over. In fact, it’s just beginning a new chapter—a chapter where growth, accountability, and mutual understanding pave the way for a brighter, more harmonious future.
Yours,
Tarat