Our Phone Addiction

The addiction we didn't know we had

Lately, we’ve been feeling straight-up overwhelmed in our day-to-day lives. We get to the end of the day thinking, Where the heck did those hours go? How is it already 6 p.m., and we haven’t even started cooking dinner?! And honestly, it’s not like we have the usual culprits—9-5 jobs, long commutes, kids, etc. We make our own schedules, train when we need to, and really only have to take care of each other—oh, and Muffins the Dog, who demands exactly five minutes of morning snuggles. No more, no less. But still, we found ourselves asking, Where is all our time going?

And then, in some divine bit of timing, we stumbled across an article on Substack by Sam Kriss: How to Live Without Your Phone. After reading it, we had one of those lightbulb moments. We started thinking about how we use our phones, when we use them, and—maybe most importantly—why. And then, because we’re an adorable couple who obviously finish each other’s sentences, we looked at each other and said in perfect unison: That’s where our time is going!

If you’ve been feeling the same—like time is slipping through your fingers—we’ll break down Sam’s article for you. He writes about giving up his phone for 40 days during Lent (along with his girlfriend) and what he learned in the process. One of his key takeaways? “Technologically, there’s nothing your phone can do that an ordinary computer can’t… These machines haven’t changed the world because they have any very notable capabilities. They just have the right shape for latching onto the soft part underneath your mind.”

So that left us wondering—given our lifestyle, how do we actually use our phones less?

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We sat down and made a list of what we actually do on our phones. Turns out, the bulk of our screen time wasn’t spent calling friends and family, replying to texts like responsible adults, or answering emails in a timely manner. Nope. What we were really using our phones for was staying “connected” to our social circles—aka, wasting mindless hours scrolling through so-and-so’s January photo dump. You know the one: blurry, over-filtered snapshots meant to scream artsy and well-traveled while also casually pretending they didn’t spend 25 minutes getting each shot just right. And when we weren’t doing that, we were deep-diving into Strava training holes, using that “insight” to second-guess our own training or compare ourselves to a single out-of-context workout—because nothing fuels an athlete’s already fragile ego like a digital leaderboard.

We weren’t using our phones to communicate; we were using them to fill space. To drown out the uncomfortable quiet in an already loud, fast-moving world. To avoid sitting alone with our thoughts or—God forbid—talking to the stranger next to us in the rental car line. We were using our phones to become the most anti-social versions of ourselves, slowly replacing real human connection with cheap dopamine hits. Every time our attention span fizzled out, our anxiety crept in, or we just got bored, we turned to the little black rectangle. And for what?

Sam put it best: “I read that smoking declined almost exactly in line with the rise of smartphones. Makes sense. Both are just something to do with your hands in the in-between moments. Both will also probably kill you.”

Do we think our phones are going to give us lung cancer? No. But we do think they’re quietly killing our happiness, self-confidence, creativity, sleep, and meaningful relationships. Instead of adding to our lives, they’re constantly pulling us away from what’s right in front of us. And it makes us wonder: What have we missed because we were too busy looking down?

So, for the next month (and hopefully beyond—wish us luck), we’re “giving up” our phones. What does that actually look like? We’ve deleted all our apps and logged out of our emails. Our phones will strictly be for calls, texts, and Google Maps (because let’s be real, we are not skilled enough to navigate with an atlas—major respect to past generations who figured that out). Instagram? Once a week. On a computer. Only for messages and necessary updates, because staying semi-relevant is unfortunately a modern necessity. Everything else—emails, taxes, this Substack—you get the point—will happen on an actual computer.

Goodbye scrolling. Adios, deep TikTok holes. Hello, sitting and being. Fully embracing the art of “rawdogging” life—no phone, no distractions. Just listening, observing, and actually engaging with the world. Like that old dude on a flight who brings absolutely nothing to entertain himself. No book, no music, no screen. He just sits there. Maybe closes his eyes. Maybe strikes up a conversation. That’s the energy we’re aiming for.

We’ll report back with what we learn—about ourselves, our dependency, and how to exist in moments without burying our faces in our screens. And let’s be clear: this isn’t some self-righteous PSA. We’re writing this to hold ourselves accountable, because left to our own devices (literally), we’d 100% justify slipping back in. “I’m just tired and need a break.” “I’m just checking one thing real quick.” Sound familiar?

Will we miss things? Definitely. Will we become disconnected from certain spaces? Yep. But our hope is that it’ll push us to actually reach out to our friends, seek out real community, and be active participants in the world instead of passive observers.

We’re not saying you need to change. You do you. But this is what we’re doing, and now you get a front-row seat to see how it all plays out. Maybe we’ll crumble from social deprivation. Maybe we’ll learn how to actually be present. Only time will tell.