How I'm Learning to Use My Phone, Without Letting It Use Me

The practices helping me stay present—without throwing my phone in the ocean.

None of us wakes up planning to spend more time on our phones than we want to. It just sort of... happens. A quick check turns into a twenty-minute scroll, and suddenly it’s 2 pm, and you’re not sure where the morning went. We’ve all been there—which is why I want to say upfront: this is not another article meant to make you feel guilty about your screen time.

Here’s the thing—no matter how much intention I bring to my phone use, I still have days where I’m on it way more than I’d planned. It comes up all the time in conversations with my friends, and it most definitely comes up in any conversation about raising kids in 2026.

Just when I think I’ve got it figured out, I can slip right back into habits that keep me from the present, free, and full life I actually want to be living.

Case in point: a couple of weekends ago, Austin was hit by an ice storm, and we found ourselves with four full days at home without anywhere to be. In my mind, I had this vision of a cozy, dreamy weekend—playing games, doing art projects with the kids, cleaning out closets (just me?), baking cookies, family movie nights. And while many of those things did happen, there was also a whole lot of refreshing my Slack notifications and scrolling Instagram.

I could feel my nervous system getting louder—the kind of wired-but-tired feeling that sneaks up on you when you’re consuming more than you’re processing.

The fact that it coincided with an incredibly tumultuous time in the world didn’t help. I let myself read way too many comment threads of people fighting about politics, hurling insults, watching incredibly disturbing videos of what was happening in Minnesota. By Monday night, I could feel it in my body—distracted, anxious, snapping at Adam and the kids over things that normally wouldn’t phase me.

I’m not advocating that we “protect our peace” to the point where we lose awareness of what’s happening in the world—that’s not it. But we can be discerning about where we get our news, and might I suggest that TikTok comment threads and Reddit rabbit holes may not be the healthiest sources?

What I’ve noticed is that when I allow too much noise in—notifications, opinions, comparison—I lose access to myself. I can’t hear my own thoughts or stay present when I’m drowning in the static of the outside world. So Monday night, I put my phone to bed in my home office, closed the door, and let it be a reset. A way of returning to the practices that help me show up as the person I want to be.

Where our attention goes

This is a no-judgment zone. I don’t believe there’s a “right” amount of phone use, only what feels aligned for you.

For me, this conversation always comes back to attention. Because we don’t actually experience everything that happens in our lives—we experience what we pay attention to.

If I’m at the beach with my kids and I’m scrolling instead of jumping in the ocean, am I building the memories I want? Am I living the life I desire?

Over time, what we focus on subtly shapes who we’re becoming. And whether we realize it or not, we’re always becoming someone. The question is: are we letting social media shape who that is? Or are we creating space to think, to breathe, to hear our inner voice, tune into God’s voice, and let that guide who we’re becoming?

The beautiful part is that we have a choice. And if we want to live our fullest, most present, most abundant lives—we can choose a life that’s not lived on our phones.

Small shifts that change everything

Here’s where we get practical—but first, a caveat. I’ve built a career in the digital space. Being online is an ever-present part of my work. So when I say these practices help me, I mean they help me as someone who literally cannot just “log off forever.”

I’ve also learned that we can’t rely on willpower alone for this. We’re up against some of the most brilliant engineers at multi-billion-dollar companies whose entire job is to hack our brains and keep us addicted to our devices. We need something else—boundaries, systems, small practices—that keep us grounded in how we want to use our phones instead of letting them run our lives.

So here’s what works for me. Think of these less as boundaries and more as supports. They’re not about restriction, they’re about protecting the parts of life that matter most to me. And they’re flexible (meaning I don’t always nail them). I’ve just learned that when I do these things, I feel more aligned, less stressed, and like I have more hours in the day.