A Bluetooth Connection Keeps Me Tethered to Myself | Teen Ink

A Bluetooth Connection Keeps Me Tethered to Myself

September 18, 2023
By sophiequindara BRONZE, Missouri City, Texas
sophiequindara BRONZE, Missouri City, Texas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

What can’t I live without?

If I were a better person, I might say chapstick, or my journal, or my sister. If I were a better person, I’d be able to live without a lot of things. If I were a better person, I certainly wouldn't say my cell phone. But I’m not better, not yet at least, and I know without a doubt that I can’t live without my phone. How interned-addicted-typical-gen Z is that? I’m not proud of it, in fact, I’m quite embarrassed by it, but I can’t imagine my life without my phone in my jeans, or in my right hand, or propped up playing music or a show. My phone is my life. It’s an extension of me. It carries me inside it the same way I carry it in my back pocket.

But, from my lockscreen of my cat, to the movie ticket inside my berry covered phone case, to my 497 opened tabs in safari, you won’t find remnants like this of who I am anywhere else. I’m in my Spotify playlists, my notes app poems, my camera roll and albums. I’m in the activity games I downloaded to pass time and the mystery books I’ve downloaded for convenient reading. I’m in my bank activity, my call logs, my pinned messages. One scroll of my Instagram explore page could tell you my hopes and dreams. I have imbued my own humanity into every crevice of this device. And maybe that’s what they’re for, maybe the only reason we carry these things is so that the bluelight poison can seep into our minds, any sense of humanity severed so they can rob us of our youth. But to me, it validates it. 

My phone has taken the shape of me more and more every day since I peeled off the clear protective plastic. My phone is my connection to myself, to my family, to the world. The headphones on my ears, a bluetooth connection, a figment of the tether keeping it tied to me.

As a teenager, I’m constantly changing. I’m finding myself, forgetting and forgiving myself. When I don’t know who I am, I can look at something that’s a tangible representation of me and I can be reminded of myself–my true self–easier than it was to lose myself in the first place. I need the reminder, physical, in the palm of my hand, warm from overuse. I need my phone because it’s me, and without it, I’m lost. Horrible, right? I wish I wasn’t so dependent on it, I wish I knew who I was without my phone, but I don’t. I can lock it away and let it die all I want, but I will always go back to my phone. I wish I were a better person, and wish I could someday live my life without it.

The author's comments:

Some people may say they can't live without their phone, but very few are willing to explain why. They may say they can't let go of their entertainment or their digital communication, but to me losing my phone would be like losing myself.


This is my submission to the Teen Ink October writing contest.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.