4. Why I Took My Daughter’s Smartphone Away- and Why I Don’t Regret It

Let me start by saying this: every parenting choice should be a personal one. What worked for me may not work for you—and I don’t pretend to have all the answers.

But after many conversations with a close friend, I made this tough and extremely unpopular decision. I removed my eldest daughter’s smartphone from our home ( as I did not purchase or agree to its purchase). So if she wanted to use it she would have to go to her father’s house.

Funny, this deceitful biological soup wrote a letter to each of the children when he left, stating that, as I had asked him to leave, they should come and look for him when they were of age (18).

And yes, not having a smartphone caused absolute chaos.

But I did it to protect her. To protect all of us.

I have two daughters, and yes, I made the same decision for both, although they’re very different people, with different temperaments and needs.

My eldest had become completely consumed by her phone. She’d spend hours glued to the screen, barely interacting with the family. Meals were just a pit stop to scroll through social media again (no phones on the table rule imposed). If something was trending, she had to see and know all about it. Her phone was her world—and we, her family, were fading into the background.

She was obsessed with likes, followers, appearances, and approval, then came the seductive selfies. She didn’t see any harm in them. Who would take me seriously? she said. How could anyone reach her through a screen?

We’d had the conversations. I did the “parent talk.” The school gave the online safety lessons. I showed her news stories to try to open her eyes. We even agreed she wouldn’t accept friend requests from strangers.

Then one day, she mentioned a friend I’d never heard of.

“A friend I’ve known for years,” she said.

Years?

It turned out he was a stranger, a man, a grown adult who had followed her for two years, regularly liking her posts. In her eyes, that made him a “friend.”

So I called his number, and he answered.

Who are you?

How old are you?

His voice was deep and mature, he didn’t want to answer the questions and hung up the phone. I called back, it rang and rang

I called back. He blocked me.

I tried again from a different phone. Same result.

Eventually, I learned he had tried to arrange to meet her. Thankfully, she said no.

I was angry. Terrified. Relieved. Lost. It was like being struck by lightning. I couldn’t stop imagining what could have happened if she’d said yes.

Even after I told her he was an adult, she struggled to believe it. I realised I couldn’t get through to her—not like this. I wasn’t going to risk losing her to the digital world.

So I took the phone. And I banished it.

She reminded me that her dad had bought it, so I “couldn’t do anything to it as it was not my property”.

😂😂😂

Needless to say, it’s gone.

And honestly? It’s the best decision I’ve ever made.

I never supported her having a smartphone to begin with, but her dad got it for her for Christmas. Now, she has a brick phone. No fancy features. Just calls and texts. She’s not glued to it, and if she ends up with a sore thumb from too much texting, that’s her tough luck.

My youngest also has a brick phone during the week, and she gets her smart device on weekends. The difference? She often forgets to even ask for it. She’s not interested in who’s liking her pictures. Sometimes whole weekends go by and she doesn’t touch it.

Since the phone was removed, my eldest’s behavior has improved dramatically. She talks more. She connects more. Sure, full-blown adolescence has arrived—but that’s a whole other story.

This entire experience was deeply stressful. I truly believed I’d done everything right. I thought I was aware, that she was aware. And yet it still happened.

I spent a lot of time blaming myself.

Where did I go wrong?

Why us?

But I’ve come to accept this truth: the world our children are growing up in is nothing like the one we knew.

Predators are more sophisticated. They understand the platforms our kids use better than we do. And they exploit them. There are now multiple versions of apps like Snapchat—and most of us parents have no idea.

The days of children riding bikes until the streetlights came on, or hanging out at the youth club, feel like a distant memory. Everything now is instant, fast-paced, and online. And technology waits for no one.

Parenting has never been harder. Not only are we dealing with the usual challenges—adolescence, peer pressure, cultural shifts—we’re also battling corporations that target our children for profit. Look at alcopops. E-cigarettes in candy flavours. Who were they really made for?

In my neighbourhood, it’s more common to see children hiding in parks vaping or experimenting with helium canisters than playing games.

And I dread to think what’s next.

So no, my way isn’t the way. But it was our way. And for us, it was the right one.

If you’re a parent reading this, trust your gut. Stay curious. Stay informed. Keep talking—even when they don’t want to listen.

Because one choice can change everything.