About My Phone

So you've probably noticed by now that my phone is... weird.

You asked me to look something up the other day and I couldn't. You sent me an Instagram story and I said I don't have it. When we were trying to find that restaurant, I had to ask you to pull up the menu because I can't just browse the web.

I could tell you were confused. Maybe a little concerned. "Is this guy just really bad with technology? Is he hiding something? What's going on here?"

Let me explain. And I promise this gets less weird as I go. Or maybe more weird. We'll see.

My iPhone is locked down like a five-year-old's.

I can call you. Text you. Use Maps to meet you places. Order an Uber. Check my bank account. All the normal, functional, adult-life stuff works fine.

But I can't browse the web. I can't use Instagram or TikTok or any social media. I can't download new apps without unlocking restrictions. And the device that controls those restrictions? I gave it to my sister. Who lives in another state.

This is intentional.

Not because I'm a Luddite (I'm a software engineer, I write code for a living). Not because I'm paranoid about privacy (though I probably should be). Not because I'm trying to make some grand statement about technology.

Because I spent four years addicted to my phone and this is the only thing that actually worked.

Let me back up.

Four years ago, I went to a boarding school that didn't allow smartphones. For four years, I didn't have one. And during those years, I was... different.

I was student government president for fifteen hundred students. I led a church group. I held seven other leadership roles. I showed up early to things. I remembered what people told me. I was actually present in conversations.

Then I graduated, COVID happened, and I got my first smartphone.

Instagram seemed harmless. Just staying connected, right? Seeing what everyone was doing.

Except I'd tell myself I was checking for ten minutes and then look up and it was 2am. I'd stay up scrolling reels I wouldn't remember in the morning, wake up exhausted, rush to work, feel guilty all day, and do it again that night.

I tried to stop. God, I tried. I deleted Instagram seventeen times. Set app limits. Promised myself "just weekends." Read books about digital minimalism while scrolling Twitter.

Nothing worked. I'd make it three days, maybe a week, then find some excuse to give myself access again. Some "legitimate reason" I needed to check just this once.

Four years of this.

I finally accepted something: I can't moderate this. My brain doesn't work that way.

Some people can have a beer and stop. Some people can't. I can have a beer and stop. I cannot have Instagram and stop.

So I stopped trying to moderate and started building systems instead.

The parental controls on iOS can lock your phone to only apps rated for young kids. That's what mine is set to. And the "parent device" that can unlock it? That's what I gave to my sister.

I tried other approaches first. Gave it to a friend (I manufactured an "emergency" and got it back within two weeks). Left it at my office (I'd find a "legitimate reason" to unlock it at work and be scrolling by that evening).

It had to be completely inaccessible. Not just inconvenient. Actually impossible to reach in a weak moment.

My sister lives across the country. Problem solved.

And yes, she thinks this is hilarious. "You're a software engineer and you gave me your laptop because you can't stop looking at Instagram?"

Yes. Exactly.

I'm telling you this now because you're going to keep noticing things that seem odd.

I'll suggest calling instead of texting back and forth for twenty minutes. Not because I don't like texting, but because I actually prefer talking to people.

I won't respond to Instagram DMs. Not because I'm ignoring you, but because I don't have Instagram on my phone. If you want to send me something, text me, or just tell me about it next time we hang out.

I can't spontaneously look things up when we're out. Which means sometimes we have to just... figure it out together. Or you look it up. Or we ask someone. Or we accept that we don't know and that's okay.

When we're together, my phone stays in my pocket. Not because I'm making some performative "look how present I am" gesture, but because there's literally nothing on it pulling my attention.

I wanted you to understand why before you started thinking this was about you. Or about me being controlling or weird or bad with technology.

It's just how I've learned to work with my brain instead of against it.

Here's what this actually means if we keep seeing each other:

When I'm with you, I'm actually with you. Not half-checking notifications. Not thinking about content I saw earlier. Not comparing our date to some influencer's highlight reel. Just here.

I notice real life more. I built this system partly because I realized social media was messing with my perception of who was actually around me versus who was just on a screen. I wanted to be present enough to notice someone worth pursuing.

Like you.

I'm easier to reach than you'd think. Call or text? I'll respond faster than most people drowning in app notifications. Want to make plans? I'm not scrolling through four apps before I answer.

And the trade-offs? Yeah, they exist. I can't look up that restaurant menu on the spot. I won't see your Instagram stories. I'm less "connected" online.

But I'm way more connected in person.

I know this is a lot for early dating. Most guys would just be mysterious about their weird phone situation and hope you don't notice.

But I've learned that being upfront about how I'm wired saves confusion later. You deserve to know what you're signing up for.

And if you're thinking "wait, is this guy too intense? Too rigid? Is this a red flag?"

Fair questions. Let me address them:

Is this some controlling thing? No. It's self-imposed. For my brain. You can have whatever phone you want. This is just what works for me.

Will he be able to stay in touch? Yes. Better than most people, actually. Call me, text me, FaceTime me - all of that works perfectly. I just can't DM on apps I don't have.

Is this forever? Probably. Maybe not. I don't know. What I know is that it works, and when I've relaxed it in the past, everything fell apart. So for now, yeah, this is how I live.

If any of that is a dealbreaker, I totally get it. We live in a world where everyone has a normal phone and I'm the weird one.

But if you've also been frustrated by people who are physically present but mentally scrolling... if you've felt like phones and social media are kind of exhausting... if you've been on dates where the guy is more interested in his screen than you...

Then maybe this isn't so weird after all.

There's one more thing I should probably mention.

I'm a software engineer, but I can't just browse the web at home for work projects. So I have a server in the cloud that I SSH into from my iPad. Full development environment, terminal-only, no GUI distractions.

Which means I can code and build and work on projects without any way to accidentally fall into a scroll-hole.

I'm telling you this not because you need to know the technical details, but because it explains why the "I need my phone for work" excuse doesn't apply to me. I built a workaround specifically so I'd never have a legitimate reason to unlock my restrictions.

I thought of everything. Because I had to. Because I'm very good at finding excuses when I want them.

So that's the story.

I have a weird phone because I spent four years losing a battle with Instagram and finally accepted I needed to change the battlefield.

If this sounds too intense for where we are right now, I understand. This is a lot of information for someone I've been on three dates with.

But I'd rather you know now than wonder later.

And honestly? If you're still reading this and not running for the hills, that says something good about you too.

Most people would've stopped at "I gave my laptop to my sister in another state."

But you kept reading. Which means either you're very patient, or very curious, or you actually get it.

I'm hoping it's the last one.

Next time we hang out, I'll be there. Fully. Phone in my pocket, attention on you, actually present for whatever we're doing.

Not because I'm trying to impress you.

Just because I finally built a life where that's the default.

And if you want to be part of that life, I'd really like that.

But first, you had to know about the phone.

Now you do.