I Deleted All the Games From My Phone and Here’s What Happened

Over the past, oh, 7 years, I’ve downloaded around 150 or so different games, with no more than 30 on my phone at once. Of those, there were a handful I played consistently, and another few that I picked up and played repeatedly until I grew tired or bored of them. Typically, the games I favored were the puzzle-based ones that you can play a stage or two of while on the toilet or waiting in line (Angry Birds, Candy Crush, Bejeweled) as well as some various slots games, a few tower defenders, and some strategy/turn-based RPGs, but others were more sandbox-style, and consisted of collecting items, characters, etc. to meet inconsequential milestones or check off achievements with no end goal (The Simpsons: Tapped Out, Fallout Shelter, Pokemon Go). Others still involved nothing more than mindless, repetitive tapping to achieve arbitrary rewards (Tap Titans, Monsters Ate My Condo).

Let’s be clear: I love games. I like board games and video games and casino games, especially. For me, it’s never been about competing with others, though. It’s a way I can compete with myself, and a way I can compete against the thing. I never wanted to be in competition with other people, even in my youth — team sports didn’t appeal to me because I couldn’t understand why anyone would be so convicted to work collectively against others over something so pointless as a title or notoriety.

Never did I realize that my conviction to the games on my phone was impacting my life in numerous negative ways. My wife noticed, though, and she called me out on it. “Why are you on your phone?” she asked me while we were lying in bed, watching a show together at the end of a long day. “I don’t know,” I said, “I’m sorry, I’ll put it away.” She was annoyed, and with good reason. “I bet if you spent as much time focusing on anything else as you do tapping on your phone, you’d be a lot happier.” I didn’t realize I was unhappy. But I was. So I made a commitment: Delete all the games off my phone. Eliminate the possibility of escaping into my screen. So I did it, and here is what happened:

The Good

I Discovered My Own Plot — Even in those early days of video games — getting together with friends after school to mash buttons and take turns playing — the fighting and PvP games didn’t keep my interest for very long. I preferred the ones with stories to latch onto: the RPGs — the quest-based, hero-led, Macguffin-driven sagas that required an investment of one’s self. Even games like Super Mario Bros and MegaMan, while the mechanics were much different, were more appealing because there was motivation for your character to be doing what they were doing — floor spikes, water stages and big bosses be damned.

Now, in writing this, I see how much of what was driving me to keep checking in on all those games were arbitrary goals. I realize that the plot I create for myself is much more compelling than any I could be assigned. The challenges I create have more fruitful results than those in a game, so I’m starting to give myself achievements to unlock in my own life. Spend more time reading to my daughter. Listen to my son even if I don’t fully understand what he’s talking about. Cook dinner with my wife instead of waiting for it to be done. While there are no badges, trophies, or virtual currency to gain, the payoff is being more connected with my family, and that’s much more fulfilling.

I Reclaimed My Time — Most games were free-to-play, or cost no more than a couple of bucks, and even though I made an in-game purchase from time to time, I spent no more than $150 over the course of my phone-gaming habit. Still, having deleted those games and having them off my phone for this week has made me realize I spent a lot more than just that on them: I spent a shitload of MY TIME.

Without the distraction of games, I find myself more compelled to spend my time being more productive, and I haven’t even forced myself to do so. The process of writing this article itself is a shining example of how I am more compelled to spend my time, and the sense of accomplishment I get is a deeper than the small rush of endorphins I get from finishing a stage or collecting a rare piece of equipment.

I Got Present — I’m noticing more about the world I’m in. I’ve spent more time observing the interactions between people. I’ve been able to more readily recognize the nuance in any given environment. I spent an afternoon sitting in a park, just watching others and truly enjoying the sunshine, the grass, and the wind; I could smell the air better and I could hear things from farther away. My food tastes better. I realized that even if I wasn’t playing a game, I was still thinking about it. How much more absent could I be from my own life?

The Bad

I Spend More Time on Social Media — I work in social media, so it’s a big part of my professional life, and it’s important to know how and why things are how they work. It’s essential for me to know how people interact with one another online, so I’m invested. Sadly, I’ve found that I am still filling more of my idle time with my nose in my screen, scrolling through my feeds and giving my attention to people who are ultimately unimportant to me and reading things I really don’t care about. Nonetheless, my own awareness of this is a step in the right direction.

I Still Think About Them — Due to the time and effort I spent on some games (I played Tapped Out for over 5 years…), I still think of them as an option. Those worlds still exist, and my progress is still saved in the cloud. Knowing they are still “alive” always gives me the option of re-downloading them and picking up where I left off. I owe it to myself and my family to remain resilient to abstain from doing so, however, so the more time I put between myself and that option, the easier it becomes to forget them.

I’m (Slightly) More Stressed — These games exist for entertainment and escape from responsibility, and they do a great job of it. By removing the option to check in with my games or spend 10 minutes to take a break and get my mind off something that is stressing me out, I am more present to that stressful thing, and it makes me anxious. It’s nothing a brief walk or some deep breathing can’t solve, but I do find myself fumbling around with my stress more often and finding other ways to distract myself.

The Unexpected

I See a Lot Fewer Ads — Since I don’t have game apps installed on my phone anymore, I am not seeing ads for mobile games in my feeds. The Instagram ad-delivery algorithm doesn’t know what to do with me anymore, so it makes me wonder what being less engaged with my other apps will do for me. Additionally, I no longer watch ads delivered to me in exchange for more virtual currency. By not watching a 30-second in order to get 500 gems, I have a lot less gems, but I also have a lot more 30-second increments of my time back.

I Am Not Alone — Turns out, I wasn’t the only one addicted to mobile games. In the midst of conversation with friends and acquaintances, I’ve seen them pull out their phones to check on a game. I know it’s not important, or even what they want to be doing. Everyone has their own compulsions, but the variety of games available makes it easy for anyone to have quick access anywhere at any time.

I’m Inspired — I never intended to write this article. I haven’t written 500 words, let alone 1500, since I can remember. If I hadn’t deleted those games, I would never have had the inspiration to write an article about having done it. This is my cue to ride that momentum, and I’m inspired by my own achievement.

It might not seem like much to have done, but it is momentous to me. And while I certainly don’t suggest you go and delete all your own mobile games, I hope you’ll remove something standing in your own way that’s keeping you from discovering something new about yourself and your world. What you’ll earn is so much more valuable than 500 virtual gems. — Jeremy S. Griffin