What will my kid's future relationship with technology look like?

I'm afraid to tell you that today I have more questions than answers (but maybe this is always the case)

Lately, I’ve spent my days with my head in the clouds. I’m building and launching a new website to highlight my work as a writer, and the project has quickly become all consuming. But it’s a good rush, a spark, an adrenaline boost that I haven’t felt in a while.

Honestly, since battling postpartum anxiety and depression, this has felt like my first win in quite some time. Even my therapist noticed that she has never seen me light up with passion like I am today since meeting me nearly a year ago. I have notebooks filling up with ideas and I’m mapping out plans for the months and years to come. It all makes me feel curious and capable and alive.

So what’s the problem, you might wonder? The problem is that my relationship with technology and the internet and social media feels blurry and exhausting and like a yo-yo that I can’t keep track of — are we up? Or are we down? Or are we completely knotted up and ready to throw you in the trash?

I’ve been binging podcasts on how to build successful launches, how to market yourself, how to gather an audience who is with you and for you. Invite them into your home. Offer them a seat and a cup of tea. Ask them, what’s on your mind?

I’ve spent hours studying how to “go viral,” which feels so cringy just writing that (especially given my recent rants about social media and momfluencers, which I wholeheartedly stand behind). I’ve filmed myself doing silly things around my house like writing in a notebook, typing on my computer, pouring a cup of coffee (slowly, and of course, from my glass pour over contraption with my Keurig out of sight.) These are all things that I do in real life around my house, but it feels so odd to turn a camera on to turn me into the protagonist who you’ll consume in the palm of your hand.

And why does any of this matter?

Because I’m deeply passionate about writing authentic stories about our ordinary lives. I have read essays that have radically changed my life and the way I see the world because of everything that writer says and doesn’t say—all that’s left unspoken in the white space.

I’m on a mission to gather curious and reflective people who share this enthusiasm for how words shape us.

I truly believe that writing is accessible to anyone and everyone, and that it can change the world. Simple as that.

So I’m going where the people are, all of us who are lost in the tiny squares and the flashes of singing videos.

Seth Haines

, author of the Substack

The Examine

, published a book of photos, poems, and short essays called The Observationalist that I was lucky enough to get my hands on.

There’s a page that stood out to me. I read it right after I filmed myself shuffling books around on my son’s bookshelf as b-roll footage to tell you something “profound” about motherhood. I realized that when I freeze the frame, I could think of a million stories that come to mind from that one ordinary moment in my home. Some of them I would gladly tell you (and I will soon when I start sharing these videos), but some of the stories that I see in that frame are stories that I would never share publicly. They are private reflections that you will never read or hear or see when you watch this video of me in my home in a seemingly ordinary moment in time.

There are also stories about me that you’ll imagine when you watch the video yourself. Some might even be true. We’ll never know.

Seth writes this reflection next to a photo that he took while he wandered the streets of his hometown with his camera and captured what he observed:

“The image in a frame? A woman exiting a shop, turning left, eyes glued to a text message from… whom? A man heading home or to a happy hour or to a birthday party with a bag in his hand.

The story of a frame: How many ways to tell it.”

This whole THING—this working as a writer in a modern and digital world, this sharing my life online, this selecting of personal stories to proclaim in a sensitive yet deeply impactful way, this showing scenes of my ordinary world to gather readers who care about reflection and showing up as our best selves in the world—feels even more riddled with complexity as I think about how I hope my son interacts with technology when he’s older.

How do we share our kids online as they grow up?

Where do we draw the line on screen time?

Do I actually hope that the whole social media world combusts by the time he’s a teenager so I don’t even have to navigate those boundaries?

How could I possibly strip technology from him when he sees how his mom’s work happens behind the glow of a screen?

Would it be easier if technology felt more black or white, good or bad?

I don’t have any answers for us today. Only questions. Maybe you think about all of this too, especially if you work from home on a computer or just find yourself mindlessly scrolling as you’re craving connection.

Will my son ever know a day in his life without a screen? Will he ever feel the real connection of holding hands with someone as he soaks up the bustling city sounds and feels the breeze skim the tip of his nose? Will he ever work a job where he’s applauded for all that he built with his hands? Will he look up as an adult and know the sting of a paper cut from holding a real book that skims his flesh?

Will they replace cursive with coding and he’ll never know how to write a proper love letter?

Is his personal brand already taking shape? Will he ever learn how to present himself to the world off a screen?

Give these a try…

1. Check out

   Seth Haines
   ’ latest project, The Observationalist, for a real-life book that you can hold in your hands. Seth uses images and words to give readers a glimpse into his observations as he walks the streets of his hometown in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Here’s another favorite quote:

“This book is not an attempt to demonstrate greatness. Instead, it’s a meager expression of an obsession with observation. The obsession whispers: go into the world; observe; capture; reflect; then do it again… and again… and again.”

2. Erin Loechner is back after three years off the internet. There’s so much worth unpacking in her blog post titled, “What I Saw When I Came Back to the Internet, 3 Years Later.”

“You can share sourdough knowledge without creating a masterclass. You can move off-grid without launching a YouTube channel. You can tell your stories without a paywall.

You can keep your own heart beating (and perhaps someone else’s?), free of charge.”

3. This feels like the perfect post to encourage you to spend 10 minutes writing by hand in your real life journal. What is your relationship like today with technology and social media? What do you hope your kids’ relationships with technology looks like when they’re older? (Share with us below if you want! Or keep it to yourself in your own private reflection.)