We live in a digital age. To the younger generations, life without screens is incomprehensible. To some, this life is a distant, nostalgic memory; the better days. As a millennial, I fall squarely in the middle. My childhood was one of the final few characterized more by knocking on neighbors’ doors to hang out than by shooting out texts. My generation was the first to brave social media, now a commodity of everyday life, as familiar as brushing your teeth.

The reality is social media, and the prevalence of the little black screens in our life has far surpassed the conscious day-to-day tasks and moved into our subconscious. We’re addicted.

I’m addicted.

On a regular basis, I find myself picking up my phone right after I’ve closed it, with no real intention or even awareness that I’m doing it. And then I am sucked in yet again. I’m left to scroll Instagram mindlessly for hours, then wonder “where did the time go?“

I’ve set up screen-time limitations, re-committed to mindful cellphone use, and all the other tricks. None of it lasts, none of it works to quell this addiction.

What am I to do?

Often, I’ll give in. Resigned to the hold this screen has over me, I choose to enjoy it. Even as I write this I’ve opened a Facebook tab three times to realize I don’t need it and close it again. I reason, “I can’t quit Facebook, I’ll miss important updates.” The reality is much bleaker: I’m hooked.

Here’s where I decided there is at least one thing I can do to mitigate the disaster which is my social media addiction. I can take a day off. Perhaps setting limits or quitting cold turkey won’t work for me, but I can take little breaks.

This past Saturday I dedicated myself to a day without screens.

I commandeered this concept from the book The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. The book promises to reignite creativity and provides assignments to get there. One such assignment is to go media-free for an entire week. That means no books, no movies or TV, phone calls, emails, or social media.

This assignment is where I fell off the train. A whole week? No way! People need me – probably. Who are these magical people who can avoid distractions for an entire week? They must be jobless, friendless, orphans, or something! A week was too much, but I could handle a day- a weekend day.

I was sure to prepare myself in advance: a list of home projects to do and a hike mapped out. I woke up in the morning, turned my phone off, and set it in a drawer.

Leaving my phone off was harder than I thought it would be.

I found myself every couple of hours with an uncomfortable itch, a desire to turn it on for a quick second, to open my computer and check my emails. What if my manager sent me an important, time-sensitive email? What if someone in my family had an emergency?

My boyfriend continued his use of screens, so avoiding them became even harder. Tempted to look over his shoulder at a Reddit page, or follow along with the YouTube videos he watched, there were times I almost gave in.

But I stayed strong. Most of the day I spent cleaning and reorganizing my home, running small errands, doing laundry. I found some small creative projects and went to work.

I finished the day feeling calm, fulfilled, and happy.

Despite the day-long itch, I found this experiment to be fully worth it. 10/10 would recommend. I noticed my worry and anxiety were lower than usual. I spent zero time comparing myself to internet models or fretting over the dreadful events plaguing our world. My conversations were more engaged, my energy more focused on each task I completed, I was more present in each moment.

The day wasn’t about what I could get done. I had no pressure to work, and so I let myself relax, something I find rather difficult.

The next day was less exciting than I’d hoped.

I turned on my phone the next morning, eagerly awaiting all the missed calls, emails, and messages from a full day away. Perhaps I’m not super popular or perhaps nothing much happens on the weekend, but I was surprised to find I missed little.

Social media was right where I left it. One day away didn’t steal any opportunities or cause me to miss out on any fun. Instead, I almost wished I hadn’t returned to the land of technology. I almost wished for 1999 again, when I had to knock on my neighbor’s door to see if they were available to play.

Staying away from screens was difficult but delightful, and might be a practice I engage in more often.