For a long time, my hand found my phone before I’d decided to reach for it: in a quiet moment, at a buzz, in a flicker of boredom, in a lull in conversation. By the time I noticed, I was already gone. As a mother, I felt it most at dinner, while someone told me a story, or in the few minutes before we walked out the door, when I’d check email for the third time that day instead of being where I was.
None of those moments felt significant alone, but they added up. I wondered how much of my life I was spending physically present and mentally elsewhere.
Rethinking Willpower
For years I read this as a failure of discipline, and that story kept me cycling between guilt and good intentions. I had an inner critic yelling at me constantly about my failures to be present. What shifted things was getting curious instead of critical. There is a reason we turn towards our phones. Phones are shiny! They glow, buzz, and press against us all day, so reaching for one is hardly surprising. Instead of resisting harder, I looked at the environment I had created and started making small changes: phone out of the bedroom, off the dinner table, charging in another room while I’m with my kids.
I also stopped aiming for perfection. Can I be curious about what I keep around me within reach? So, I started keeping stacks of books in plain sight, records ready to be played, and board games and decks of cards close by and within sight. These were small, tangible invitations toward the things that bring me genuine joy and connection.
What I Notice in Myself and Others
Once I began watching my own habits, I saw them everywhere: a parent at the playground with eyes down while a child calls “Watch me!”, a couple at dinner each lit by their own screen, a friend who says, “one sec” and disappears mid-sentence. I don’t see these moments with judgment but with recognition. I know that reflex. Most of us are not careless. We’re pulled by devices designed to be hard to put down, in lives that already ask a lot.
I also notice the other side. When someone puts their phone away and gives me their full attention, I feel more relaxed, more heard, more like I matter. It makes me wonder what my children feel when I do the same, and when I don’t.
Being Pulled in Different Directions
The phone is rarely just a distraction. It’s also the school email, the family group chat, the work message, the thing I forgot to order. Picking it up can feel responsible and avoidant at the same moment. Many of us hold several roles at once (caregiver, partner, employee, friend), and each tug at our attention. Being fully with one person often means feeling the pull of everyone else. I understand that tension because I live it.
Meeting Myself with Curiosity
Most often, I relate to my inner world using Internal Family Systems (IFS). Internal Family Systems (IFS), developed by Richard Schwartz, offers a way of understanding our inner lives as made up of different “parts.” IFS changed how I relate to the urge to scroll. I no longer see that part of me as weak. I ask what it’s looking for. It might want rest, comfort, or a break from a hard feeling, or relief from being “on.” Instead of “What’s wrong with me?”, I ask, “What support do I need right now?” or “How is this part trying to care for me right now?” Often I can support that part of myself in another way, perhaps with fresh air, pressing my feet into the ground, connection, or five quiet minutes.
Choosing vs. Disappearing
What matters most to me now is the difference between choosing my phone and disappearing into it. When I fill every quiet moment, I can’t hear my own thoughts and I can’t be present for the people in my life.
This is not about a life without technology. It is about creating enough space that I can hear myself again. There will always be another notification or breaking piece of news, and the goal is not to never get pulled away. The goal is to notice sooner and be gentler with myself when it happens.
And when we can, we set the phone down far out of reach and come back to the people in front of us, to the life unfolding around us, and to ourselves.
Allison Beer, MSW, LCSW, is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker who specializes in helping teens and adults struggling with anxiety and burnout to find deep healing and relief. She also helps people experiencing challenges stemming from being neurodivergent (autistic, adhd, AuDHD, etc) in this neurotypical world. Her approach combines Internal Family Systems (IFS), also known as parts work, and Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), along with mindfulness practices. She is affirming of LGBTQIA+ and Neurodivergent identities. Allie can be reached through her website.
