As a teenager I would spend hours on the phone to my boyfriend and best friends, sitting on the stairs speaking in hushed tones on the landline. I’d snap up the receiver as soon as it rang, while shouting to my bad-tempered mother that the call was indeed for me and definitely not for her.
Then around aged 16, I bought a Nokia 3310 mobile and would talk on it for so long that the handset would get hot. My parents would become hysterical, warning me of brain tumours and radio waves and couldn’t I just email?
‘Email?!’ I replied, appalled at the very suggestion. ‘Why would I type my thoughts when I could just pick up the phone?’
Fast forward 14 years and long phone calls have become a less frequent ritual. But those emails my mum mentioned? She was on to something.
While still a social butterfly, the majority of my correspondence is now made via email, WhatsApp and Instagram with many of my fellow Millennials prone to convulsing at the mere suggestion of an actual real-life phone call. Such an event needs booking in advance, diarised as a Gmail invite, only to be cancelled last minute.
But that was until the Covid-19 pandemic and we all reached for the phone in search of connection. In the first week of the lockdown in London, I had Zoom calls with ex-work colleagues, old neighbours, in-laws and my son’s godfather.
I even enjoyed an hour-long phone conversation on a Friday night with one of my best friends who lives over a hundred miles away. While we’re in near daily contact, it’s always usually over WhatsApp or whatever medium our small children will spare us time for.
That hour was blissful. I felt more connected to her than I had in ages and not at all lonely — even with the threat of weeks of lockdown looming ahead.
As an anxious person I need that connection. I need to hear the tone and intonation in someone’s voice, so the meaning doesn’t get lost and twisted into something far different by my overly creative conscious. An unanswered message or a slightly too brief text can lead me down spirals of self-doubt and worry, convinced that friend has suddenly decided they don’t like me after all.
Emails are much the same. I’m a freelance writer who works remotely so I often exhaust myself with the worry of reading too much into an editor or client’s tone. Did they really like that last piece I wrote or was their curt reply simply down to their incredibly busy schedule?
When it all gets too much and I can’t read it right, I just have to pick up the phone. And, oh yes, I was right. There was really no problem at all. They’re just ‘super slammed at the moment’.
So as we approach the fifth week of isolation and there seems to be a little snatch of hope in the distance, I hope that when we all return to normal, we can remember to stay connected — properly connected — a little more.
I don’t want to merely do lip-service to a treasured relationship. I want to really chat to those I care about. And while I understand this abundance of time is an anomaly and life will eventually return to normal, I hope we can all remember how good it feels to catch up with those we can’t see in person.
So much better than catching up with the latest Netflix on a slightly miserable Tuesday night. Or scrolling endlessly through Instagram in search of a vapid connection.
It is, as they say, always good to talk.