What I remember most is how perfect it looked when I opened the box. The IPhone was so shiny when I looked at it I could see my reflection perfectly. There was still plastic protecting it, and I almost considered not taking it off in fear of leaving fingerprints. The silver edges didn’t have a single scrape, and when I finally lifted it out of its cushion, it felt light to the touch. At the time, the IPhone was the best gift in the world.
Years later, I read an article in the New York Times that discussed the relationship that many individuals feel towards their IPhones. In a few studies, the author was trying to prove his theory that many people are actually addicted to their phones, similar to those who are dependent on cocaine and alcohol. But what he found was even more astonishing. According to his research, subjects who were exposed to the sounds and pictures of iPhones not only reacted to it, but felt a rush in certain parts of their brains where we typically feel compassion or romance. In short, he discovered that we are not addicted to our iPhones. We are in love with our IPhones.
As much as this article surprised me, I know that I, too, have a strong attachment to my IPhone. Although the novelty of opening it the first day has worn off, I know that my phone, as much as I don’t like to admit it, has become an integral part of my life. I use it as an alarm so I am always on time for classes, and it is my iPod so I can find incentive to go to the gym. It is my calendar so I always know my schedule, and most importantly it is a constant means of communication. As much as I wish it wasn’t true, I am clearly attached to my iPhone.