A Letter to My Smartphone—The Separation
It’s been 10 years. Yes, our relationship has a lot of history and even more momentum. We continue to grow closer each year. But momentum is no reason to keep a relationship going.
It is true—you give me so much. You connect me to friends. You tell me where I’m supposed to be and when, and even how to get there. You’re my source of all information—news, weather, how fast I’m running, music. You provide light when I need it, wake me up in the morning, remind me to do things, track how much I meditate. You help me capture moments in photo and video. You tell my wife where I am, so I don’t have to.
You make my life so convenient.
You give me more every year, but you also take more with it. And I’m starting to think that what you take is not worth it. You’ve grown into a monster that demands my attention at all time. Yes, you help me get to the moments that matter most, but then you distract me in those moments. Yes, you save me time with everything at hand, but you are also a time-suck when I get pulled into trivial or unimportant traps.
The time has come for us to separate. This feels impossible now, but I just have this feeling, a feeling that my life will be so much better without you. It is hard to explain. Maybe I’ll understand once I’ve had some space
So this week, I am going to the store and ask for an old phone. The kind of phone that just makes phone calls and sends texts. In addition, I’m going to keep a data plan on you. Yes, you are so useful that I am afraid to completely pull the plug. This is just the first step. And rather than being in my pocket, I will move you to my briefcase.
This is not a goodbye, or even a goodbye for now. This is just the first conversation. I’ll continue to have more conversations with you and share them with the world. I want the world to know that they also might be in a toxic relationship, and what it’s like to get out of it