Okay, can we just pause for a second? I was scrolling through my phone the other night, probably for the hundredth time that day, and it hit me—I had no idea what I had just looked at. Like, truly zero recollection. My thumb had been on autopilot, swiping past stories, liking photos, and absorbing absolutely nothing. And I thought, when did I become this person? The one who is constantly connected but somehow feels completely disconnected from everything that actually matters?

It’s funny, isn’t it? We have more tools than ever to organize our lives, track our habits, and stay in touch, yet most of us are running on empty. We’re busy, sure. But are we present? That’s the question that’s been rattling around in my brain lately, and it’s led me down a bit of a rabbit hole—one that I think you might need to explore with me.

The Great Unplugging (Or, My Failed Attempt at a Digital Detox)

So, I decided to do something about it. I read all the articles. I downloaded the apps that block other apps. I even told my husband, “I’m going off the grid for 48 hours.” He laughed. I should have known then.

Day one was… rough. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I found myself reaching for my phone while waiting for my coffee to brew. Just to check the weather. Then I’d realize I was holding it and put it down, only to pick it up again two minutes later to “check the time.” It was like a phantom limb situation, but for my thumb. By day two, I was feeling a little proud of myself. I’d actually finished a book—a real, physical book with pages!—and I’d had a conversation with my neighbor that lasted longer than a wave from across the street.

Here’s the thing I learned, though: it wasn’t really about the detox. It was about realizing how much of my day was just… noise. The constant pinging, the endless scroll, the comparison game that I didn’t even know I was playing. When I finally silenced it all, I realized the silence wasn’t empty. It was full of my own thoughts, and honestly, I had forgotten what those sounded like. It’s a little scary to admit, but I think we all get so caught up in the curated lives of others that we forget to live our own uncurated, messy, beautiful lives.

Small Shifts, Not Big Overhauls (Because We’re Not Superhuman)

Now, I’m not here to tell you to throw your phone in the ocean and move to a cabin in the woods. I love a good meme as much as the next person. But I am here to suggest that maybe we need to be a little more intentional about the space we’re giving to things that don’t serve us. For me, that started with a few tiny, manageable shifts that didn’t feel like a punishment.

• I turned off all non-human notifications. You know the ones. The “Your friend just posted!” and the “Don’t forget to check out this sale!” alerts. If a real human isn’t trying to reach me, my phone doesn’t need to buzz. This single change cut my screen time by like, an hour a day. It’s wild.
• I created a “no-phone zone.” For us, it’s the dinner table. It was hard for the first week. We’d just sit there, chewing, staring at each other like, “So… what do we do now?” But now? We actually talk. We laugh. We tell stories about our days that don’t involve a filter.
• I started a “done” list instead of just a “to-do” list. This one sounds silly, but it’s been a game-changer. At the end of the day, instead of beating myself up for the three things I didn’t get to, I write down five things I did accomplish. Even if it’s just “took a shower” or “drank enough water.” It’s a reminder that I’m showing up, even on the days when it doesn’t feel like it.

These aren’t massive life changes. They’re just little guardrails I’ve put up to protect my peace. And let me tell you, the difference is palpable. I feel less anxious. I feel more like I’m actually living in my own life instead of just watching it go by from behind a screen. It’s like I finally cleaned the smudges off my glasses and realized the world was in high-definition this whole time.

Giving Myself Permission to Be a Beginner

The other big realization? I’d been holding myself to this impossible standard of having it all figured out. I was trying to be the perfect mom, the perfect wife, the perfect friend, the perfect person, and it was exhausting. I was so worried about getting everything right that I was forgetting to just… try things.

So, I started a pottery class. I’m terrible at it. Like, laughably bad. My “bowls” look like abstract blobs that a toddler might have made. But you know what? I don’t care. For two hours a week, I’m not thinking about deadlines or grocery lists. I’m just focused on the feel of the clay in my hands. It’s messy, it’s imperfect, and it’s the most freeing thing I’ve done for myself in years. It reminded me that it’s okay to be a beginner at something. It’s okay to not be good at it. The joy is in the doing, not the perfecting.

I think that’s the real takeaway from this whole journey of mine. We spend so much time trying to curate a perfect life for the outside world that we forget to actually enjoy the imperfect one we have. We’re so busy documenting the moment that we miss the moment itself. We’re so concerned with what we’re supposed to be doing that we forget to ask ourselves what we want to be doing.

So, here’s my little challenge for you, friend. This week, just try to be a little more present. Put your phone in another room when you’re having coffee. Actually listen when your partner is talking to you. Say yes to something that scares you a little, even if you might be bad at it. And most importantly, give yourself some grace. You’re doing better than you think you are. We all are. We’re just all figuring it out as we go, and honestly, that’s kind of the beauty of it all. 🤍