And how I will still maintain an online author presence

Do you remember when you got your first mobile phone? I guess everyone does. I was twenty, it was 1998 and my friends had collectively bought me one for my birthday. I hadn’t expressed any longing for one – at that point it was still relatively rare for people to have one – but some of my friends had had phones for a while and they wanted me to join in. It was a nice gift. A chunky little pay-as-you-go Nokia.

It was a novelty to start with. Kind of fun to send a text or get a phone call. They couldn’t connect to the internet and most of us hadn’t even started using the web yet. We had no need to. Those early phones could not take photos either. They had chunky push buttons and you had to pay for cool ring-tones.

We were innocent in our acceptance of them. We had no idea where it would all lead; how much easier it would make our lives, how addicted we would become.

Back then, we didn’t take them everywhere with us. It was still entirely acceptable not to own one. We all still had landlines and still knew the numbers of our loved ones by heart. Twenty-seven years later we are slowly waking up to the fact that our phones, and what we now have on them, are addictive. We are slowly waking up to the fact that giving a smart phone to a child can be extremely detrimental to their mental health.

Ten, twenty years from now, where will we be? Will we see phones and contracts with health warnings on them like we do with alcohol and tobacco? There is a push among some countries, and within many schools and parenting communities to limit the use of smartphones for young people and there is a growing movement of people who want to disconnect from the hold their phone has on them.

And I’m one of them.

I’ve been wanting to do something about it for some time. The way my phone took over my life was slow, insidious. It’s not until you look back and remember how it was that you see how far it has come. I wasn’t interested in mobile phones to start with. Like I said, my friends bought me my first one. I remember my first camera phone. It would have been around 2004 because I recall trying to take photos of my two young daughters with it. Every photo was blurry because they couldn’t sit still.

I’ve never been that impressed by phones. I always had this one friend that got really excited about them and was always upgrading and talking about the next big thing, but I was never in a hurry to upgrade mine. Every phone I’ve ever had I’ve kept until it eventually died. Camera phones were soon all the rage and before long the cameras were actually good. Phones also had torches and calculators on them now.

My friends connected to the internet with their phones years before I did. I was still getting my head around the internet itself back in 2007 when we got our first family laptop.

I didn’t get Facebook until around 2009 and the only reason I did was because a mum at school was telling me about her virtual farm. At the time we were renting a very small house with a very small garden and I didn’t have much room to grow things. A virtual farm sounded fun and it was, so I joined Facebook just to play Farmville!

I soon got lured in by connecting with friends, old and new. I soon started following various pages that connected to my interests. At this point I still had a rubbish camera phone and was using an actual camera connected to the laptop to upload photos.

Fast forward to when my fourth child was born in 2014, and everything had changed. I now had apps on my phone. Facebook and Instagram and my email account. I now had various author pages I needed to update each day. I could buy straight from Amazon using my phone. I could take cute photos of my newborn and upload them instantly to my socials.

I was now addicted to my phone.

I didn’t realise it at first, of course. I took it everywhere with me just like everyone else. It was a source of comfort and safety, peace of mind. Phone boxes have become scarce. No one can remember anyone’s numbers anymore and if you break down in the middle of nowhere you are going to need a phone.

But without me knowing, an addiction had formed.

An addiction that started as soon as I woke up in the morning and the very first thing I did was check my phone. I’d then settle down with my breakfast and check it again, this time answering any messages on Facebook Messenger, text, or WhatsApp. Then I’d check TimeHop. Followed by Facebook and Instagram notifications which inevitably led to me scrolling mindlessly for far too long. I’d break the scrolling to check the news. Not on the TV like the old days – on my phone. Then I’d check my emails. All before getting dressed.

Once I’d got dressed and woke the kids up and completed a few other morning chores, I was right back on my phone again, this time with a coffee on the go. Checking those apps again. Scrolling again. Quite often getting angry or depressed again.

And that’s how the day would carry on. In between work, travel and household chores, I would check my phone. I didn’t even know what I was checking for but it had become such a habit that I didn’t notice it at first. My hand moving towards my phone all the time, almost of its own accord.

If we were watching a TV programme and adverts came on, I’d pick up my phone. If a programme was a bit dull, I’d look at my phone. Waiting in the car to pick my son up from school, I’d check my phone.

In recent years it began to annoy me.

We can all agree that the entire world had gone to shit and who knows how much worse its going to get. Checking my phone now caused me to feel utter despair. Utter helplessness. My phone was making me angry and sad. Looking at my phone was constantly ruining my day.

And then there is how instantly contactable they make you. If you’ve got a few apps on there, anyone can ping you a message or tag you in something at any time, day or night. I would groan at the messages. Groan at the emails. Roll my eyes at the notifications and the things people send you for no reason. I’d constantly sneer at people’s feeds and posts. Constantly feel annoyed by people, by the world, by everything.

Yet I couldn’t stop looking!

Doing something even though you know it is causing you harm? If that’s not addiction, I don’t know what else.

Something had to change. I read The Way Home by Mark Boyle just before Christmas and it tapped into everything that was frustrating me about the modern world. I don’t think my family would let me run away to live in a cabin in the woods with no technology, but reading that book made me long for a more simple life again.

At first I tried not looking at my phone so much. Every time my hand reached for it, I would tune into what I was doing and stop myself. More often than not I would have already opened an app and started scrolling though before I remembered I was trying to wean myself off.

I’d force myself away mid-scroll, but the itch to return was still there. Fear of missing out, I suppose. Plus the ingrained habit of constantly reading and seeing what everyone else is up to at every moment of the day, and me sharing what I’m doing, thinking and feeling. At some point we stopped talking to people in real life and started sharing our private lives across social media.

Social media has become increasingly toxic. It’s not a nice place to be. The majority of these platforms are owned by pretty despicable people with pretty deplorable morals. They can also change the game any time they like. Despite being billionaires, they want you to pay for ads to boost your posts. Visibility for author pages is constantly dwindling unless you can afford to pay. And then there’s AI slop and the enshittification of the entire internet…

I think that’s what did it for me in the end.

I left Twitter and joined Bluesky. I’ve upped my game on Substack, while trying to remain busy on Medium and here on my blog. None of these apps are on my phone.

Next came the culling. I did it when I was feeling angry; when I was thinking about Zuckerberg caving to Trump who thinks right-wingers are unfairly fact-checked on Facebook; when I was thinking about Spotify donating to Trump and being terrible for the music industry, when I was fed up of people messaging me, tagging me, sending me things.

So, I did it. First Facebook Messenger from my phone, followed a few days later by Facebook itself and Spotify. It’s a start.

I thought it would be hard. I thought losing all my playlists would sting. I thought not constantly knowing what’s happening on Facebook would worry me, but in the end it hurt far less than I had anticipated. Snip. Gone.

Now every time I reach for my phone I almost instantly put it back down because there is far less to check or get sucked into. I still have Instagram for the moment. That’s because it’s an author page linked to my Facebook author page, so if I post book related stuff there it will automatically show up on my author page on Facebook without me having to go on Facebook. My plan is to delete both if my followers and engagement on Bluesky and Substack overtake my followers on Facebook.

People can only message me now if they have my phone number! It’s bliss. And I still have plenty of time in the morning and/or evening to ‘check’ Facebook on my laptop, and to post to Substack and Bluesky.

It’s a start! I hope to go further. I’d like to make my phone just a phone again, but it’s not easy when you have books to sell. And it’s not easy weaning yourself off such an entrenched addiction!

My phone no longer has the same hold over me. I can’t doom scroll anymore. I can read the news, or not. I can check Instagram and post book stuff, or not. That’s about it.

It feels good. Like freedom. Like sanity!

I also have a lot more time for other things. Instead of scrolling on my phone, I pick up a book instead or get more writing done. I’ve started planting seeds for the garden and I am slowly redecorating our entire house. I don’t think I’d have time for all this if I was as addicted to my phone as I was…

How about you? Does your phone control your life? Could you live without it? Are there a few apps you could delete? Do you think we are starting to see a backlash against social media platforms?