Sometimes, I feel guilty saying that I was grateful for the COVID-19 pandemic occurring.
With the world population on lockdown and others suffering from the very disease that caused people to stay inside their homes, it’s obvious that the pandemic was anything but positive for many.
However, the 12-year-old me was extremely bored.
Even from a young age, I’d always craved adventure and the pursuit of discovering something new every day, whether that be trying a new restaurant in Grand Rapids or venturing on a vacation to an unexplored country for my family and me. I wanted to feel the adrenaline rush of a rollercoaster on an everyday basis, so to speak.
My family and I were blessed to never contract the illness firsthand, so with that, I had a lot of time on my hands to figure out what to do with the long, uneventful days that dictated 2020.
Firstly, I decided to try and maintain flexibility. When I was at the grand age of five years old, I had all my splits down to the floor, a feat I was proud of at the time. However, for reasons I cannot remember, I didn’t keep up my stretching routine after that. Because of my inability to continue the routine, I no longer had my splits.
For the longest time, I’d been jealous of creators on the Internet who could do incredible tricks and aerobics, all by hard work and dedication. I desired to know what it felt like to fly through the air, feeling invincible, weightless, and in full control of my capabilities.
Over the next couple of years, I stretched on a daily basis and taught myself how to do complex dance/gymnastics skills, such as a firebird, an aerial, and split leaps and jumps of all variations.
From there, my creativity took off. With the payoff from my perseverance with flexibility easily visible, I craved the freedom that it allowed. I taught myself how to bake, how to French and Dutch braid my hair, and focused on sharpening my violin-playing skills.
It was a time of unprecedented innovation and imagination in my life, one I have yet to re-experience due to a certain block of metal that became attached to my persona.
Nearing the final days of the pandemic, I got my first iPhone.
You can imagine what that entailed.
Social media quickly became a large use of my time and almost a priority over my hobbies I had developed only months prior. Suddenly, I was swept into the web of beauty standards, brain rot memes, and unrealistic news, and I never escaped from it.
One of my New Year’s resolutions this year (and last year, and the year before that) is to curb my addiction to my phone and social media overall, hopefully being able to survive a few days without always wanting to know what my favorite celebrities are doing at any given time of day.
I tested this theory out from Jan. 1-6, and I found that my life became significantly less stressful and overstimulating than when I had no limits on my phone whatsoever. I began baking and cooking again (to start, a hummingbird cake and broccoli cheddar soup) and resumed scrapbooking, a passion I tentatively picked up in early 2024 and quickly became obsessed with.
It wasn’t homework or societal pressure that was holding me back from rejoicing in the rediscovery of my hobbies. It was—although it pains me to admit—my phone.
My parents were right. It really is “that phone.”
Without constant consumption, I felt reconnected with my inner child and all the passions that she so lovingly adored and nurtured over the years. I saw a glimpse of what life is supposed to be like: a life without staring at a screen for hours on end.
Creativity is part of what makes the human race. From art to music to poetry, each form of expression is essential to us fragile beings to understand each other and connect through various forms of originality. Although the internet can certainly assist in these interactions, it shouldn’t dictate how we talk to each other and how we look at the world.
Maybe, this year, I’ll finally be able to accomplish one of my New Year’s resolutions.
