Why am I always on my phone? It’s a question I ask myself when I catch a glimpse of the clock and realize hours have slipped away. My eyes are glued to the screen, endlessly scrolling, checking notifications, mindlessly swiping from one app to the next. I tell myself I’ll just look for a minute, but before I know it, I’m lost in the digital world, disconnected from the people and moments around me.

I didn’t set out to live like this. I didn’t intend to spend so much of my life tethered to a device, but somewhere along the way, my phone became an escape, a distraction, a comfort. And now, it feels like I can’t go more than a few minutes without reaching for it. It’s always there, like a reflex, as if it’s become an extension of me. But deep down, I know this constant attachment isn’t healthy, and it makes me wonder—why am I always on my phone?

Part of me thinks it’s because my phone offers a break from reality. When life feels overwhelming, stressful, or too quiet, my phone is a distraction that’s always within arm’s reach. It’s a quick fix for boredom, an easy way to escape from difficult emotions or uncomfortable situations. When I’m anxious, lonely, or restless, my phone gives me something to focus on, even if it’s just the mind-numbing scroll through social media or reading random articles. It feels like a way to fill the emptiness, but the truth is, it only makes me feel more disconnected.

There’s also the constant pull of notifications. Every buzz, every ding, every light-up screen is like a call for my attention. I tell myself I’ll just check that one message, that one email, but then I get sucked into the endless loop of updates and alerts. It’s exhausting, but it’s also addictive. The need to stay informed, to stay connected, to not miss out on anything—it’s like my phone holds this false promise of keeping me engaged with the world. But instead, it leaves me feeling more isolated, more distracted from the things that actually matter.

And then there’s the comparison trap. Social media, with all its perfectly curated images and stories, pulls me in with the promise of connection, but often leaves me feeling less than. I scroll through endless photos of people living their best lives, achieving things I haven’t, looking a way I don’t. I compare myself, even though I know what I’m seeing is filtered and edited. Yet, I keep going back for more, as if I’m searching for something—validation, a sense of belonging, or maybe just the hope that one day I’ll feel like I measure up.

I think, too, that my phone has become a way to avoid being present. Real life can be hard. Conversations can be uncomfortable. Silence can be deafening. So, I reach for my phone in those moments, filling the space with noise, with distraction, because being fully present sometimes feels too overwhelming. But in avoiding those moments, I’m missing out on life. I’m missing the quiet moments of connection, the beauty of simply being in the here and now.

What’s most frustrating is that I know my phone isn’t giving me what I truly need. It’s not the comfort, the connection, or the fulfillment I’m searching for. It’s a quick fix, a temporary escape, but it doesn’t solve the deeper issue. It doesn’t fill the loneliness, ease the anxiety, or give me the sense of purpose I crave. It just numbs it for a little while, and then I’m left with the same feelings, only now I’ve lost time—time I could have spent connecting with myself, with others, with the world around me.

So, why am I always on my phone? Maybe it’s because, for a moment, it makes the difficult things in life feel a little easier to ignore. But I’m beginning to see that the more I hide behind my phone, the more disconnected I become from the things that truly matter. The real connections, the face-to-face conversations, the quiet moments of reflection—these are the things that bring meaning and joy to life, not the endless notifications or the constant scrolling.

I don’t want to look back on my life and realize I missed it because I was too busy staring at a screen. I don’t want my memories to be of posts and likes, but of real moments with real people, of laughter, love, and connection. It’s hard, though, to break free from the grip my phone has on me. It’s become so ingrained in my daily life that it feels strange to be without it. But I know it’s a habit I need to change.

I’m learning to set boundaries, to put my phone away during important moments, to resist the urge to reach for it when I’m feeling bored or anxious. I’m reminding myself that real life happens outside of the screen, in the spaces where I can look people in the eyes, hear their voices, and feel their presence. I’m learning to sit with discomfort, with boredom, with silence, and to see it as an opportunity to reconnect with myself and the world around me.

It’s not easy. Sometimes, it feels like my phone has a hold on me that’s hard to break. But I know that the real connection, the real joy, comes from being fully present in my life, not from constantly checking my phone. So, I’m trying. I’m trying to put it down, to look up, and to live in the moment.

Why am I always on my phone? Because it’s easier than facing the discomfort of real life. But I’m ready to stop hiding behind the screen and start living again. I’m ready to reconnect—with myself, with others, and with the world around me.

-With love, H.

And you tell me about your experience down below?