I rushed out of school as fast as I could to my parent’s car while they wondered why I was so late. As I make my way to the car, I think to myself how I wish I had a way to tell them I was going to be so late, so they wouldn’t leave me. When I opened the car door and finally sat down, my mom quietly handed me a phone. My hands were shaking, and my eyes were in complete shock. I held the phone in my hands as if it were treasure.

Being a senior in High School and almost an adult, I never would have imagined it would have taken this long to get a phone. It almost seems wild how something so basic for most people felt like a milestone for me that I fought for.

Since eighth grade, whenever I asked my mom for a phone, she always said, “I’ll give you everything when you’re ready.” I never knew what this meant, and I honestly still don’t. However, this year, her answer was different – it was “Here you go.”

As we pulled out of the school parking lot, I couldn’t stop turning the phone over in my hands, exploring every button and screen like it was some ancient artifact. I already imagined texting my friends, setting my own background and maybe even downloading a few apps. It felt like a whole new world had just opened up for me, one where I had a voice and could be part of the conversation without having to borrow someone else’s phone. The possibilities felt endless, and for the first time, I weirdly felt like I finally got to grow up.

I tried not to make a big deal out of it. I showed my close friends, got some big reactions, which I didn’t fully expect. It really made me realize the impact that not having a phone had on not only my life but the ones around me. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that I finally had the freedom to communicate without using someone else’s phone and to be reachable on my own terms.

And yet, I still think about the version of me that didn’t have one. In a way, that life was quieter. I had to plan ahead, rely on instinct and be creative. There was something solid about that, something that I don’t experience now. I’m not saying that I loved it, because it definitely came with its struggles. Field trips were a battle, car pooling was a nightmare and afterschool activities were near impossible. However, there were never notifications that called my name, nor were there any messages that needed answering.

As much as I enjoy my new phone, I can’t ignore that it has a grip on me. I see how people are glued to theirs constantly, scrolling, refreshing and checking for something new. I get it, but I don’t see my phone as something I need every second. It’s not my lifeline. It’s just an extension of my life, something that helps, not something that defines me.

I still carry the habits I built without a phone, like adaptability and planning ahead. But now I get to do all that with a tool that makes life easier. I don’t fully regret the wait. If anything, it made me appreciate what most people take for granted.