The Dumb Phone

The long list of phones were beginning to become overwhelming. Nine open tabs on my laptop displayed endless options of phones and plans from different cellphone providers, and I couldn’t seem to make up my mind.

For reference, I am not someone who takes a long time to make a decision. The first time I moved to Alberta (two provinces away from my hometown), I took about ten seconds to say yes to the prospect of quitting my job and starting fresh in an unknown city. I’ve lived most of my life this way, with optimism that everything will just work out, so I may as well go with my gut.

I had been struggling with phone addiction for so long. I’ve tried apps, a Faraday bag, and throwing it into a drawer after dinner. They all worked, for a little while. Eventually the excuses would pile up for why I just NEEDED to access one of the many time consuming apps, and before I knew it I was back in the familiar trance.

The simple flip phone looked so appealing. If I chose one of those, I could subscribe to a $25 per month talk and text plan, ensuring I wouldn’t be accessing the impossibly small browser it had to offer. Sure, I would have to go back to pressing a key four times just to get to the letter “s”, but the thought of freedom outweighed the nuisance. 

I thought about being away from the house without any data. What if I had to access online banking? What about real time traffic in Google maps? What about when I post something to Instagram and I need to see how many likes it has so I can finally feel fulfilled and validated as a person?

“Add to cart”.

I took a deep breath. There was no going back now (okay, there was, I could still change my mind at this point but the dramatic flair would be gone if you knew that).

A slew of emails came in welcoming me to my new wireless carrier. I had a tiny moment of panic, one where I wondered if I just made a colossal mistake and would immediately regret backtracking to the technology of 2005.

Two days later, I heard a knock on the door. In my full work from home attire (sweatpants and a hoodie with last night’s pizza sauce on them), I swung open the door to be greeted by a smiling FedEx worker. “Wonderful!”, I said out loud, as I signed his digital tablet and ripped open the box.

Before me lay the simplest flip phone I had ever seen. I chose the TCL Flip, something you could safely give to a grandparent in hopes the buttons were big enough so they could call you to ask why you haven’t called them.

Now here’s where I show my complete and total aversion to technology: I was actually nervous to put the SIM card in and take the necessary steps to switch over my phone number. I don’t know why this stressed me out, but I was concerned I would mess it up and I would need to start an entirely new profile with Domino’s and lose the concerningly large number of free pizzas I had accumulated. After giving myself a pep talk, I spent the next ten minutes activating everything, and before I knew it I was making a phone call on my new dumb phone.

Snapping the phone closed (which I forgot is incredibly satisfying), I held it in the palm of my hand. It was a symbol of simplicity, and I felt myself pouring the same hope into it that I did the Faraday bag and the minimalist app. This time, however, the choice was a bit more concrete, and I would have no option but to be at the mercy of this simple phone when I was out of the house.

Leaving the next day to run errands, I threw my new simple companion into my purse. I’m normally connected to the world 24/7, so I had a heightened awareness of the steps I was taking to pull myself back.

I want to say it was difficult, that I immediately felt like something was missing, but honestly, I barely noticed. Because I still had a phone people could call me on, I was able to get in touch with my husband when I needed to. What I wasn’t able to do, was scroll endlessly while waiting in line at Sephora, or pull my smartphone back out of my purse two minutes later to check Instagram when I got back in my car. Sure, I couldn’t look up the hours of one of the stores I was going to, but I found myself unbothered at the prospect of it being closed when I got there. I could always come back when it was open.

To be fair, it’s only been a few days. I’m not sure how I’ll feel about this a month from now (but I am sure I’ll be updating you on that). Hopefully, I’ll find myself feeling much the same way as I feel right now: a bit relaxed, and a bit unplugged.