I Don't Need My Phone... Wait, Is That Actually True?

My parents gave me my first cell phone when I was twelve years old.

It wasn't a fancy iPhone or anything, not even close. Just a simple black flip phone for when I needed to call or text them after school.

Despite the fact that it lacked all the bells and whistles of a cool new iPhone, I still loved that phone. It made me feel like a grown up—I was responsible, I could be trusted, I was mature for my age. I was excited to use it, carry it around and show my friends.

My second phone was a Blackberry Bold—even cooler and more sophisticated. And my third phone, the last one I had before finally switching to an iPhone, was a blue LG Xpression Cellular Slider. Fancy schmancy.

For the longest time, I thought I was above an iPhone. I didn't really care about playing games on my phone, didn't care about the touch screen, nor did I like taking selfies, so Snapchat and other social media platforms were wasted on me. If I could text people and make phone calls when necessary, I was set. Plus, I had my iPod Shuffle to listen to music.

But then I got my first iPhone, and everything changed.

I was sixteen when I got my first iPhone, and that is when I realized my age group didn't really text or call. Most communication was through social media, whether it was Facebook, Instagram, Twitter (at the time) or Snapchat.

When I went away to summer camp, I gave my number to friends I made there, but they were all asking me for my Snapchat info instead. It was daunting, and I didn't love the idea of creating social media accounts just for the sake of keeping in touch with people. Why couldn't we just text or call each other? Wouldn't that make more sense? But I wanted to keep in contact with friends I might never see in person again.

So I bit the bullet and downloaded Snapchat right before I turned eighteen.

Besides taking pictures of myself, I enjoyed using the app. It was fun using the silly filters and it was cool to see other peoples' stories. Since I had downloaded Snapchat, I decided I might as well create other social media accounts on Facebook and Instagram. That's when I was introduced to reels, and eventually, the addictive world of iFunny and TikTok.

It's become a daily ritual, one born out of boredom, or even just a need to scroll—to feel connected if the day is going by slowly and there aren't many people around. I hate the term "doom scroll," but that's exactly what it is. If there is ever a free moment, it's like my phone suddenly has its own gravity. Need a quick laugh? Pull out your phone. So and so hasn't texted you back yet. Pull out your phone. Did you hear about this news story, it's crazy! Pull. Out. Your. Phone.

It's maddening. Sometimes I don't even realize why I'm checking my phone. Yes, I need it for my job and to stay connected to friends and family. But those aren't the only reasons I find myself checking it. I swear, sometimes it just appears in my hand and I'm staring at the screen, trying to remember what it was that triggered a look.

I already stare at my laptop screen day in and day out, you'd think I've had enough of the blue light—I've got two pairs of blue light glasses sat on deck 24/7 to give my eyes a breather here and there.

So where does the attachment come from?

I see the algorithms working their magic, pop ups galore populating whatever screen I'm looking at. Besides the random ads I get in Spanish from time to time, despite the fact I don't speak a lick of it, my phone knows my interests and tastes better than most people. It's frightening and I wish I had stuck to my guns—never downloaded Snapchat, never said the hell with it and created accounts on other platforms.

While I enjoy the memes and the sense of community, especially on platforms like Vocal, I don't know what to make of the online world to this day. I fear it's a world we endlessly try to navigate, even dominate, but it will never actually be able to give us what we're looking for. Those feelings of belonging, validation, connection, humanity—the online world is really just tearing them away.

Every scroll, quick glance at a meme, purchase on an online store, selfie posted, message to a friend, there's a toxicity present in all of it we have to be aware of, even though we all try to ignore it to a certain degree. I know I try, but you'll still find me doom scrolling through TikTok before bed, unconsciously glancing at my phone throughout each day just in case there's a text.

It's draining and mind-numbing, but we're all a part of it in some way. We've created a world that's hard to exist in if we're not connected to the internet or social media in some capacity.

I think it's time we change that.