My boyfriend and I shared a smartphone for 6 years

For six years, we were known in our friends’ phones as “Johnny/Kayla.”

My boyfriend and I had just one phone between us. This meant we saw all of each other’s text messages, saved selfies, and recent calls. Our Google search histories were on full display.

It wasn’t that we couldn’t afford two phones. It was more that we just couldn’t find a good enough reason to pay for both. My boyfriend — now my husband — is an old soul trapped in the body of a 20-something. He’s never really liked getting texts, push notifications, or email alerts. So when his phone contract was up, he never renewed it, and we never looked back.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. I looked back.

I’m what you might call a high-stress person, which I realize isn’t really uncommon these days. The thought of not being able to reach my boyfriend if I needed him was utterly anxiety-inducing for me. How would I know where he was? What if I needed him to grab something from the store on the way home? What if there was an emergency?

But we used just my phone for one week, then two weeks, then six months, and the world didn’t end. Life went on just fine without us being able to text or call each other. During the next five-and-a-half years, we got married, rented our first apartment, earned a few degrees, rented our second apartment, adopted a dog, bought a car, and bought a house. We lived our lives and grew together, all while exchanging our single phone between the two of us.

Most American adults own their own smartphone these days. But I’ve never once come across another couple that shares one between them. In fact, other couples have reacted to our arrangement with sheer horror. But, in many ways, I think sharing a phone actually did a lot to strengthen our relationship.

I mean, sure, it had its inconveniences.

One time, my car broke down 40 miles from home in the most torrential downpour you’ve ever seen. And, because I left the phone with Johnny that day, I couldn’t easily call a tow truck — or anyone else for that matter. But, over the course of four hours, and with the help of some kind passersby, I got ahold of both Johnny and a tow truck and got home. It worked out fine in the end, even if it did take a bit longer than it otherwise would have.

There were plenty of times I didn’t know where Johnny was when he didn’t come home at night (usually sleeping at a friend’s house after drinks). And there were times he didn’t know where I was when I didn’t come back from a run (usually doing a long run instead of my usual, shorter route). Those situations could be stressful, yes.

We were also probably a nuisance to the people around us, who we often relied upon to relay messages for us. If I had the phone, Johnny would have his friends …read more

Source:: The Week – Tech


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