1 Month Smartphone Free

What's the point?

A month ago, I ordered the most basic, ugly phone on Amazon. The kind of phone that makes you miss T9 texting and Snake. Why? Because my smartphone usage had skyrocketed. I lost control. No blocking app, screen time limit, or grayscale mode could fix it. I tried all the tricks, and none of them worked. So I took the most radical route: I switched to a dumb phone.

The switch was easy because I’d had enough of the phone. I was disgusted by it… So when I realized I could have a new phone with zero distractions, I was so relieved and excited. Here is the first article I wrote about this experience

I Traded My iPhone for a Basic Phone

Now, one month later, I want to share what changed in my life, what I discovered, and why I relapsed. Because that relapse turned out to be the most revealing part of the experiment. It showed me why I was glued to my phone in the first place.

What Changed?

1. The biggest change was finally having the mental space to fix my toddler’s sleep. She’s 2.5 and had terrible sleep habits. She wouldn’t fall asleep unless I sat right next to her bed, and she’d wake up several times a night calling for me. It took just four days to turn things around, no tears, no frustration, and no drama.

2. Then, I started reading more. Thinking more. Actually finishing thoughts before they got hijacked by a notification. I didn’t realize how addicted I was to that constant drip of dopamine until I removed it.

3. I also noticed how quiet my days became. Not the kind of quiet where it’s totally silent, but the kind where your brain finally stops buzzing. I didn’t realize how much mental noise came from my phone until it was gone.

4. During those idle moments when you just have to sit and wait for your coffee, in a line, or while your kids are at their extracurricular activities. Those little pockets of time are perfect for phone scrolling.

   So when I found myself in those situations without my smartphone, I had no choice but to sit there with nothing to do. At first, it was weird. Then I thought of running a little experiment: to watch what my brain would do, stay conscious, sneak on my own mind, and see what happens when there’s no scrolling, no stimulation, no distraction. I wanted to keep an eye on what kind of thoughts would manifest.

   And it was amazing! The sheer number of thoughts that surfaced. I’d gain new insights about myself, get an idea for a Substack note, or notice things I could do better with my kids. My mind, once constantly occupied, was finally creating and introspecting again.

   Slowly, I started keeping a small notebook with me to scribble down whatever came up during those idle times. Those quiet minutes, the ones I used to fill with endless scrolling, became some of my most creative and reflective moments.

5. Here is one that was a little unsettling for me. My toddler calmed down. I have a highly stimulated little one. She loves to talk on the phone, jump around, and always seems to need constant stimulation. Or so I thought.

   Once my own phone disappeared from the equation, something shifted in her. I might have been modeling that same restless energy — the constant checking, the quick dopamine hits, the need for “something” all the time. When I slowed down, she did too. She began to quietly pick an activity on her own, without needing the constant attention or the noise.

And Then, Just When Everything Felt Calm and Balanced, I Relapsed.

It happened one week ago, on a weekend, after a fight with my husband. One of those long, draining arguments that leaves you raw and unsettled. As soon as it ended, I felt the pull. The urge to grab my smartphone, the one I had proudly stored away, and scroll my pain away.

It 100% was about escape. I didn’t want to sit with the heaviness of what had just happened. The sadness, the frustration, the resentment. I wanted a distraction, a hit of something easy and fast, a little dopamine fix to cover up the discomfort.

So I gave in. I scrolled.

And because my brain loves to justify things, it told me, “It’s fine, just don’t use your phone, your computer is fiiiine!” So I went from YouTube to FaceTiming my entire extended family to scrolling Facebook Marketplace. It worked for a while. I felt lighter, cheerful, distracted…

But when I finally closed the laptop, I felt miserable. All that sadness and frustration came rushing back. Only this time, it felt sharper, heavier, almost amplified as if all those feelings had been sitting in the dark, waiting for me, getting louder the longer I tried to ignore them.

This was enough for me to realize that one of the reasons I was glued to my phone was avoidance. By nature, I’m conflict-averse, something I’ve been trying to work on. The phone had become my coping mechanism. The problem is, you pay a high price for that kind of comfort. You start deluding yourself into believing everything is fine, while forgetting what actually made you upset in the first place or where your share of responsibility lies. And the phone is the perfect tool for that, a handy escape that hides the truth a little too well.

Lesson Learned

In the days that followed, I didn’t try to punish myself for relapsing. I simply put my computer away, armed with new insights about myself and the ways I cope.

I’m back to my strict technology routine: no internet during the day. I get access to my computer for just one hour after the kids go to bed, only to check Substack, emails, and WhatsApp messages (answering only if it’s urgent). FaceTime calls happen on the weekend, and I don’t watch shows or movies at night, except Saturday night if nothing else is planned. I read instead.

I’ve also set up a system to keep my focus: a notebook for first drafts of articles and notes, and another where I write down things I need to Google, books to check, or emails I need to send that night.

The time I’ve reclaimed feels precious. The energy I’ve gotten back is immeasurable. My kids are happier. Am I happier? I don’t know if I can honestly answer that yet. But I do know this: I finally have the time and mental space to figure out my own happiness, to face, understand, and fix whatever it was I was distracting myself from.

So, if you had the same space to step back, unplug, and really focus on yourself, what would you discover? Let me know in the comments, I’d love to chat!