It's 2005, and I'm a teenager sitting in the back of a family friend's car. We're returning from an event when their son, Andres asks, "Have you seen this new phone feature?"

Andres and I grew up together as technology developed rapidly around us. As the older one, he always experienced every tech craze before me. At that point, I barely had the guts to ask my parents for a flip phone. Luckily, my school friends were equally obsessed with AOL's Instant Messenger (AIM), so we'd spend endless hours in chat rooms tethered to our bulky desktops, only to see each other in class the following day.

Fast forward to 2023, and I’m ashamed to admit that I screen most calls. Texting has become my communication method of choice. On dating apps, some prompts ask for non-negotiables. I often wonder if texting has become a non-negotiable. What was once ludicrous is now a personal preference.

Somewhere along the way, this type of communication became more manageable—a less intrusive way of staying connected amid the hustle of everyday life. It allows me to communicate without stopping my day. Like others, I can connect without actually giving someone my full attention. I can multitask endlessly. In today's society, sitting in stillness has become a prized commodity that often feels out of reach. Despite the apps and articles, I struggle to find calm and mental peace in a world that has conditioned me to hustle at all times. I am constantly doing, moving, changing, and feeling like I haven't done enough.

We have all become tethered to our phones. I am tethered to mine.

When my therapist asks, I admit, "Yes, I have a phone addiction." Gmail, LinkedIn, Google Docs, Instagram, Slack, Loom, and Hinge. I'm exhausted just listing them out loud. It feels like we are chronically connected yet more isolated than ever. I often yearn for community and a different kind of living—one where my social relationships don't require weeks of scheduling, only to be left with a void when the interaction ends.

One of my best friends once told me," I wish life were like the show Friends…where you got to see your friends every day because they lived next door." But the truth is, our world isn't a sitcom. Even Friends ended with the reality of people having children, moving away, and branching off into their own lives. We all yearn to connect, but ironically, the thing meant to bring us together might rob us of the connection we desperately crave.

In her book, Alone Together, Professor Sherry Turkle writes, "I met many people who found online life more satisfying than what some derisively called 'RL,' that is real life." Despite being published in 2010, it feels ever-present today.

I'm not shocked by the obsession with artificial intelligence. The tech giants have convinced us that more technology is better. They claim we need artificial intelligence that can avoid a breakup with a partner, chatbots that answer our medical questions with empathy, robots that offer us intimacy without the demands of a human partner, and virtual reality goggles to live in a better world (yet more isolated) than real life.

As a former interior designer, I relish the quote by Winston Churchill, "We shape our buildings, then they shape us," Yet, I fear the computers we designed to help us get off the assembly line and be more productive are negatively shaping us. This technology is pushing us to create new worlds where we live idealistic lives and connect even less with each other.

I suspect many others, like me, yearn for more human connection. We've come a long way from texting a few characters to a friend. Would we all be binging reruns if the Friends cast existed in 2023? I picture them sitting at the cafe, texting each other and liking the photos of everyone else seemingly living their lives while missing out on their own. It's a sad image.

I recognize that technology hasn't all been bad. On AIM in 2006, I told my friend that my father was dying and may not live until spring break. In that chat room, my best friend promised, "I'll skip school. I'll come to the hospital and stay all day with you." 

"No, you don't have to do that,” I started, "It's going to be so boring," I continued.

"It doesn't matter. I'll be there," my friend replied. He died that night, so she spent the day with my family and me arranging his funeral. 

In my personal life, I miss live interactions. I've remained close with friends who have embraced the voice memo feature and felt disconnected in friendships that rely solely on text. It hasn't stopped me from texting 90% of the time…Yet, I was ecstatic when that friend, who helped me plan my father's funeral, shared that Apple would be introducing a video memo feature. "Bring them on," I said, "I love voice memos, video memos, memos of all kinds." She lives in Colorado now, and I'm in Boston, and technology has helped us stay close after 20 years. There is a novelty in seeing our loved ones after being conditioned to text our woes and triumphs back and forth. 

Honestly, I can't help but fear what's to come. I know that I can't turn back the clock…Go back to the days before texting existed and warn them that texting would end hours-long phone calls with friends, chatting with strangers on the train, or sitting in public just enjoying nature without looking down every 15 seconds.

Technology experts stress that responsive design is the gold standard. Why? Well, it allows the user to seamlessly transition between devices –  from phone to tablet to desktop. Yet, virtual reality takes it a step further. We're moving into an erosion of digital and physical boundaries, where the convergence of the digital world is becoming more alluring than our physical one.

In this new world, I wonder how I'll stay connected to those I love while battling my phone addiction. As we yearn for social connection and battle this loneliness epidemic, I hope we'll reach more for each other rather than our gadgets.