I never thought I’d be the person advocating for digital minimalism. Just a year ago, my phone was practically glued to my hand, notifications constantly pinging, and that familiar blue light illuminating my face at 2 AM as I scrolled through yet another pointless feed. It wasn’t until my partner took a photo of me at dinner—head down, completely oblivious to the conversation happening around me—that I realized something had to change.
That’s when I stumbled upon the concept of a digital reset. Not just deleting a few apps or half-heartedly promising to “check Instagram less,” but a structured, intentional 30-day program to completely overhaul my relationship with technology. I was skeptical at first (aren’t we all?), but desperate enough to try anything.
Look, I’m not going to pretend this was easy. The first few days were honestly terrible. I felt phantom vibrations in my pocket. I reached for my phone approximately 400 times an hour. I was bored, antsy, and irritable. But then something shifted. By the end of week one, I noticed spaces opening up in my day—gaps where creativity, deep thinking, and actual human connection could flourish.
So I’ve put together this 30-day reset based on my experience and countless conversations with others who’ve walked this path. It’s not about throwing your devices into the sea (tempting as that might be sometimes). It’s about establishing a healthier relationship with technology—one where you’re in control, not the algorithms.
Before you start, spend a day tracking your current digital habits. Download a screen time app if you don’t already use one, and prepare to be horrified. I discovered I was spending nearly five hours daily on my phone, most of it mindlessly scrolling. Getting clear on your starting point makes the progress along the way much more satisfying.
Now, prepare yourself mentally. This isn’t going to be comfortable. Your brain is going to resist. You’ve spent years training it to expect constant stimulation and dopamine hits. It’s going to throw a proper tantrum when you take away its favorite toys. That’s normal. Expect it, plan for it, and push through anyway.
Week one is about elimination. Remove all social media apps from your phone—yes, all of them. Delete shopping apps, news apps, games, anything designed to capture and monetize your attention. Keep only the essential tools: navigation, banking, messaging with close family, etc. If you need social media for work, designate a specific computer and time frame for those tasks.
I remember sitting on my couch that first evening, suddenly aware of the silence. No notifications, no endless scroll to numb my mind. It was uncomfortable. Truly uncomfortable. I actually got up and cleaned my kitchen just to have something to do with my hands. (My flatmate was thrilled, though a bit confused by my sudden interest in scrubbing the oven.)
During this first week, create designated technology zones in your home. Your bedroom should be completely tech-free—yes, that means no phone charging by your bed. Buy an actual alarm clock. The dining table is another tech-free zone. Meals deserve your full attention, and honestly, food tastes better when you’re actually focusing on it.
By week two, you’ll likely have moved through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms. Now it’s time to fill the space you’ve created with meaningful alternatives. This isn’t just about what you’re removing—it’s about what you’re adding back into your life.
Make a list of activities you’ve always claimed you “don’t have time for.” Reading actual books? Going for walks? Learning to bake sourdough? (It was 2020 when I did my first reset, so yes, there was sourdough involved.) Schedule these activities into your day with the same commitment you’d give to any important appointment.
I rediscovered my love of reading during this phase. I’d been a voracious reader as a child but had gradually replaced books with endless internet rabbit holes. The first novel I picked up sat untouched for days because my attention span was shot to bits. I could barely make it through two pages without reaching for my phantom phone. But by the end of the week, I was devouring chapters at a time, completely immersed in a way I hadn’t experienced in years.
Week three is about rebuilding your digital life with intention. This doesn’t mean reinstalling everything. Instead, carefully consider which digital tools genuinely enhance your life. For me, that meant keeping my meditation app and Spotify, but saying goodbye to Twitter (sorry, “X”) permanently.
For any app you do decide to reinstall, create strict boundaries. Schedule specific times to check it, preferably once or twice a day. Disable all notifications except from actual humans trying to reach you. Unfollow accounts that make you feel inadequate or trigger mindless consumption. Be ruthless here.
I remember sitting down and asking myself genuinely challenging questions about each app: Does this add real value to my life? Does it align with my deeper values and goals? Would I miss it in a year if it disappeared? The answers were sometimes surprising and always clarifying.
The final week is about crafting sustainable habits. By now, you’ve likely experienced significant benefits—better sleep, improved focus, more presence in your relationships. The challenge is maintaining these gains when the structured reset ends.
Create a personal technology policy—actual written rules for how you’ll engage with digital tools moving forward. Mine includes no phones during meals, no screens an hour before bed, and social media checks limited to 20 minutes after work. Your rules might look different, but writing them down dramatically increases your chances of sticking with them.
Also, consider implementing tech-free Sundays (or whatever day works for you). A complete 24-hour digital detox each week helps reset your nervous system and reminds you that the world continues spinning even when you’re not plugged in. My first tech-free Sunday felt like an eternity. By the third one, it was the day I looked forward to most all week.
Throughout this process, expect setbacks. You’ll have days when you fall back into old patterns. That’s not failure—it’s just part of rewiring deeply ingrained habits. The key is noticing when it happens without judgment, then gently returning to your reset intentions.
The benefits of completing this 30-day reset have been profound for me and countless others I’ve guided through it. Beyond the obvious improvements in productivity and focus, there’s a deeper shift that happens—a reclaiming of your attention and, by extension, your life.
I sleep better now. I’m more present with my kids (they’ve actually commented on it, which was both wonderful and slightly shameful). I’ve read 23 books this year already. But perhaps most significantly, I’ve broken free from the constant sense of urgency that digital immersion created—that nagging feeling that I needed to check something, respond to something, be available for something at all times.
After your 30 days, you might be surprised by how little you want to return to your old habits. Many of the apps and platforms that once seemed essential will now feel optional at best, detrimental at worst. Trust that feeling. Your brain is finally clear enough to recognize what truly matters.
The beautiful thing about this reset is that it creates a reference point—a clear before and after that you can return to whenever you feel technology creeping back into the driver’s seat of your life. And it will creep back. The algorithms are designed to be irresistible, after all. When you notice the signs—increased anxiety, shortened attention span, that familiar neck pain from looking down at your phone—you can implement a mini-reset before things get out of hand.
One last bit of advice: find a reset buddy if possible. Having someone to text (ironically) when you’re desperate to check Instagram makes all the difference. My husband and I did our first reset together, and our mutual accountability was crucial during those first difficult days.
Look, our relationship with technology is complicated. These devices have brought incredible benefits—connecting us across distances, putting the world’s knowledge at our fingertips, capturing precious memories. The goal isn’t technological asceticism. It’s technological intentionality. This reset isn’t about living like it’s 1952. It’s about using these powerful tools in ways that enhance rather than diminish our humanity.
I still use my smartphone every day. I still get sucked into occasional YouTube vortexes. I’m not perfect, and that’s not the point. But now technology serves me, not the other way around. And that shift—from passive consumption to active choice—has made all the difference.
