My life in an iPhone!

When I first arrived in Australia, I stepped into a city that felt overwhelming—crowded streets, unpredictable weather that seemed to have a mind of its own. You guessed it: Melbourne.

Years later, who would have thought this same city would offer me the opportunity of a lifetime—my dream of pursuing a PhD with a scholarship!

You might be wondering: what does this have to do with my iPhone—and my life within it? I’m getting there.

As a PhD student, I had to travel alone. That meant leaving behind everything familiar—my family, my friends, my home in Fiji.

And here’s the thing: I’ve never really been a “phone person.” I know—it sounds like I belong in the early ’90s. But if someone called or texted me, I would give them my full attention. I just never believed phones could replace real connection.

For me, life feels most alive when we use all five senses—when we’re present with people, sharing space, energy, and moments.

So when I arrived in Melbourne, something shifted.

My mind felt foggy. My energy scattered. My heart heavy.
Waking up felt like a task. Sleeping—and the dreams that felt more real than life—became an escape.

I missed my family, and friends deeply. The people who knew me without explanation.

But I didn’t know how to express that. And if I’m honest, I still struggle with asking people for their time.

Then came the calls.

The same routine—answering a ringing phone, saying hello to faces compressed into a small screen.

And slowly, I began to feel disconnected.

I was having more conversations in my head than in real life. Instead of sharing experiences, it felt like I was reporting to them. My life became a summary, not a story.

Between the intensity of a PhD and my tendency to live deeply in thought, even temporary or surface-level social interactions started to feel draining.

I began losing touch with people—not because I didn’t care, but because I couldn’t keep up with time zones, expectations, and the emotional effort it all required.

I’m sharing this because I know I’m not alone. And because I found something that helped.

It started with Atomic Habits by James Clear—specifically his idea of cue, response, and reward.

In my case:

Cue: Change of environment: My attachment to familiar ways of connecting—and my resistance to adapting
Response: Flight response: Not adapting well to phones and the new social space: Believing I wasn’t someone who could connect well through a phone
Reward: Reduced pain perception: Telling myself I was sacrificing my social life for something “important”—my PhD

But the truth? No one was asking for that sacrifice. I was choosing it.

The real shift came through that insight—and through what I’d call therapy with nature. I began to redesign my life intentionally. I created space for five versions of myself:

Self-care presence time
In-person social connection
Work-focused academic life
Family time—through my iPhone
Limiting doom scrolling on instagram for social alternatives

That last one required honesty. You might be wondering how did insta come into the picture? It has a lot of do with social behaviors being shaped by who we are surrounded by. We are social creatures and insta is shaping our behavior and feeling of connection whether we realise it or not. Reflect on this the next time you have ended a insta doom scroll. Did you come out feeling digitally and socially connected?

For my time with iPhone and family I had to become more intentional! I love being connected to them—but phone calls sometimes make me miss them more. I had to become more present when we talk. I had to dedicate more intentional times for deep conversations. I had to choose them.

I had to admit something difficult: After emotionally heavy calls, I often felt more alone. And I felt guilty. Guilty that a six-inch screen made me feel like I couldn’t truly show up for the people I love. But that was also the moment everything changed.

I realised it wasn’t the phone I disliked—it was what it represented: distance, limitation, and a version of connection I hadn’t yet learned to navigate.

I had to accept things were changing. Acceptance that my role in my family had changed. Acceptance that I couldn’t always be there. Acceptance that I needed to grow, adapt, and allow others to step in where I couldn’t.

The truth is, doing a PhD far from home is hard. It’s a choice that doesn’t always feel fair. But it’s also a phase of growth. A stage where we move into a phase called the self-authoring mind—where we begin defining our own identity, values, and direction, beyond the familiarities and expectations we grew up with.

So what does “life in an iPhone” look like now?

Not limitation—but intention. A small window that can hold meaningful connection—if we create the right conditions.

For me, that looks like:

Reassuring: I may not be there today but when we are I am going to make the most of it.
Socially connecting: Physically and digitally intentional with where my energy, time and values are being placed.

And most importantly, it means, it’s okay if we don’t talk every day. Even weeks may pass. But when we do connect, its the shared understanding knowing nothing has changed about the love we have for each other.

That’s my life in an iPhone.

My life in an iPhone!

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