As of today, August 17, 2025, I think it’s safe to say I’m more than qualified to speak on this very important topic: phone-life balance.
Most of you know by now that I’ve been living over three years without a personal phone number. Yeah, you read that right, no personal line, no daily notifications blowing up my screen, no never ending stream of calls and texts demanding my time. My phone use has been reduced to “as needed,” and when I say needed, I mean it.
Has it been easy? Absolutely not. Has it been worth it? Hell. Fucking. Yes.
But before I dive into how I got here, let me paint the picture of why I went this “extreme” route in the first place, and why you might want to consider setting your own phone-life boundaries before your phone quietly consumes you.
Growing Up Before the Noise
I was born in the late 1900s, which feels like a cheat code when it comes to balance. Why? Because I had the blessing of growing up in a time when technology wasn’t oxygen. Phones were still attached to walls, and “being unavailable” wasn’t an act of rebellion… it was just life.
That perspective gave me two worlds to see: one without constant tech and one where tech runs everything. That duality makes it easier for me to say, “Nah, I don’t need to be accessible 24/7.” But let me be honest: just because I can say it doesn’t mean it was easy to actually do it.
The Shift: When the Phone Took Over
Somewhere along the way, phones stopped being tools and started being lifelines, not just for me, but for everybody.
At first, I thought it was cool. My phone rang, it buzzed, it dinged, and that meant people needed me, right? It meant I was important, right? Wrong.
The truth? My phone rarely rang to check on me. It rang because someone needed something from me. And me being me, the one who shows up, the one who cares… I responded. To everyone. To everything. At anytime… just writing about it feels exhausting, but i digress.
Over time, that constant cycle drained me. A decade of recycled patterns emptied my cup until I hit a breaking point: a mental breakdown. Not a burnout, not just a rough patch, a full on breakdown. Why? Because I felt like an asset, not a person.
Pulling the Plug
So, I did what most people wouldn’t dare to do. I turned it all off.
Both my personal and business lines? Gone.
And guess what? The world lost its mind. There were news articles, billboards, endless speculation. Everyone assumed it was about money, failure, even believed someone kidnapped me… because God forbid someone just decides to protect their peace.
At first, the noise around it frustrated me. But eventually, I realized the chaos I caused was actually proof of what I needed… boundaries.
Living Without the Line
Today, I actually do have a number again. The difference? I don’t use it.
- I don’t allow notifications to push to my devices.
- I limit my social media intake.
- I don’t hand out access just because someone asks for it.
- I force conversations to happen in person or, if it’s business, through my official channels.
And let me tell you, the peace is unmatched.
Do people get mad? Of course. But I’ve learned that most people’s frustration comes from their inability to use me for their benefit. Their opinions aren’t about me, they’re about what they lose access to.
The Mental Weight of the Scroll
But here’s where it gets even deeper: the way our phones affect our mental health.
See, the device itself isn’t the enemy. It’s what it feeds you. The more time I spent online, the more I noticed a shift in myself:
- Bad news headlines stealing my joy.
- Highlight reels from strangers making me feel like I wasn’t moving fast enough.
- Friends and people I know, living what looked like shinier, better lives.
Suddenly, my peace wasn’t mine anymore. It belonged to whatever the feed served me that day.
That’s the trap: comparison. Depression. Stagnancy. You start to believe you’re not enough because someone else appears to be doing more. You shrink. You slow down. You stop chasing what’s actually yours because you’re busy measuring yourself against a curated version of someone else.
And the truth is, none of it’s real. But your emotions? Your stress? Your anxiety? That becomes very real.
The 1:1 You Didn’t Know You Needed
So let’s flip this. Imagine you’re in a one-on-one session with me right now. No phones, no distractions. Just us.
I look at you and ask:
“Why do you feel this way? Why do you feel less than, anxious, or stuck?”
And here’s the answer, even if it stings: because you let the device dictate your emotions.
It’s not really you. It’s not really them. It’s the system. Your device is a machine built to profit off your attention. The longer you scroll, the more you compare. The more you compare, the more you disconnect from who you actually are.
And if you don’t take back control, that cycle will eat you alive.
The Way Out
So what’s the solution? You already know it.
Get. Off. The. Device.
Be present. Look up. Go outside. Touch grass. Sit in silence. Talk to someone face to face. Let yourself exist without the constant drip feed of other people’s lives.
And here’s my promise: when you do, you’ll feel lighter. You’ll feel happier. You’ll feel like you again.
The Fork in the Road
At the end of the day, you’ve got two paths in front of you.
Path one, keep scrolling. Keep comparing. Keep letting your phone dictate your peace, and fast forward twenty years, you’ll probably see yourself in one of those late night infomercials:
“If you or someone you love has suffered long-term effects from excessive device use, you may be entitled to compensation…”
Path two, choose balance. Reclaim your time, your focus, and your emotions. Learn to live with your phone instead of through it.
That choice is yours.
Your Homework
Since you’ve made it this far, here’s your assignment:
- Pick one day this week to silence your notifications.
- Pick one evening to leave your phone in another room.
- Spend that time being present for yourself, your family, your ideas, your peace.
Notice how it feels. Notice the weight lift. Notice the difference.
And when you’re brave enough, repeat it next week, and the week after that, and the week after that.
Because your peace, your sanity, and your sense of self? They’re worth more than a notification.
And when you finally taste that freedom, you’ll never want to go back.
Hope this helps,
– B
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