I didn’t go to the South of France and Switzerland intending to disconnect.

I wasn’t making a statement. I wasn’t doing a digital detox. I simply wanted a vacation.

Of course, I took photos. And yes, those vacation videos are coming.

I even FaceTimed my mother from Switzerland to show her the Alps, which I believe she absolutely loved. Moments like that are the beautiful side of technology. The ability to instantly share an experience with someone you love, no matter how many miles separate you, is something I never take for granted.

But somewhere between the mountain views, long dinners, and slower mornings, I stopped looking at my phone every five minutes.

What surprised me wasn’t how much I missed being connected. It was how much I didn’t.

My mind felt quieter. I felt calmer. More present. I wasn’t constantly absorbing headlines, opinions, breaking news, social media updates, or everyone else’s carefully curated lives. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was fully where I was.

And it reminded me of something women of our generation understand in a way younger generations never will: We remember life before all of this.

We remember when phones stayed home. We remember vacations where nobody expected an immediate response. We remember answering machines. We remember being unavailable—and nobody thought twice about it.

Then I came home.

And picked up my phone.

I had 2,234 messages waiting for me.

Two thousand, two hundred and thirty-four.

Some were important. Most weren’t. But seeing that number instantly shifted my nervous system right back into overdrive. Before I had even unpacked my suitcase, I felt the weight of being connected again.

And somehow, for reasons I still can’t explain, I ended up listening to the Call Her Daddy podcast. Why? Honestly, I have no idea. Curiosity? Boredom? The algorithm doing what the algorithm does best? Who even knows anymore.

But it got me thinking.

For years, we’ve treated social media anxiety as if it were mostly a younger generation problem. Teenagers chasing likes. Influencers building brands. Twenty-somethings glued to TikTok.

But statistics are proving us wrong.

Adults over 40 are spending more time on social media than ever before. At the same time, increasing numbers of adults report feeling overwhelmed, stressed, and emotionally drained by the constant stream of information flowing through their phones every day.

The truth is, I don’t think social media is the entire problem.

I think it’s something bigger.

We’ve become reachable all the time.

For many women, our phones aren’t just phones anymore. They’re our calendars, cameras, workspaces, family communication centers, news sources, and emergency contacts. They sit beside us when we wake up and often stay within arm’s reach until we go to sleep.

We keep them nearby because aging parents may call. Children or grandchildren may need us. Doctors may have updates. Work never seems to completely shut off. Many of us are managing families, careers, caregiving responsibilities, friendships, and households—often all at the same time.

So when someone casually says, “Just put your phone down,” it isn’t always that simple.

Many of us don’t feel like we have the luxury of being unavailable.

And yet somewhere between staying connected to the people we love and endlessly consuming news, opinions, social media updates, advertisements, and other people’s lives, we’ve become emotionally overloaded without even realizing it.

That’s what I noticed most on vacation.

Not that I missed social media.

But that I didn’t.

The world kept spinning. The notifications could wait. And somewhere between the lavender fields, the Alps, long dinners, and the easy laughter that comes from being fully present with good friends, I remembered what life felt like when my attention belonged to me.

Maybe that’s why so many women are craving quiet right now.

Not because we’re anti-technology. Not because we’re unwilling to adapt. But because we were never designed to process this much information, from this many people, all day long.

Maybe the real luxury today isn’t another vacation destination.

Maybe it’s peace of mind.

A quiet morning. A phone left untouched for a few hours. A conversation uninterrupted by notifications. A life that doesn’t constantly need to be posted, measured, shared, or explained.

I’m not giving up social media. Realistically, most of us won’t.

But after returning home to 2,234 messages, I found myself asking a question I suspect many women are asking too:

At what point did being connected stop feeling helpful… and start feeling heavy?