I Upgraded My Phone. Then I Upgraded My Life.

I didn’t realize how stuck I had become until I put my new phone next to my old one.

One was bright, functional, and honestly… fun.

The other was cracked, drained, and barely holding on.

And I couldn’t ignore the thought: that old phone was me.

I recently upgraded from an iPhone 12 to an iPhone 17 Pro. My old one wouldn’t hold a charge and needed to be constantly plugged in just to get through the day. I had a clear Magsafe case that could never be used to its fullest potential because I had attached a PopSocket that I hated. Over time, I managed to drop it repeatedly so the screen protector was partially missing and the case was cracked in various spots all around the edges.

It worked. Technically.

But there was nothing enjoyable about it.

My new phone is the complete opposite. It’s bright orange—fun, vibrant, and close to pink, my favorite color. The case is covered in pretty florals and in place of the PopSocket I loathed, I got a pink leather wristlet. It all looks so pretty together and every time I pick it up, it makes me smile.

I didn’t trade in my old phone. I have a paranoia about needing it (don’t judge me), so it’s sitting on the buffet in my dining room. And when I placed the new one next to it, the comparison was impossible to ignore.

Before I was laid off, I knew I wasn’t at my best.

I felt stifled.

I wasn’t growing.

I wasn’t being challenged in a way that made me better.

I told myself that in 2026 I would start investing in myself: take classes, learn new things, push myself again. And then I lost my job.

I didn’t want that to happen. But I can see now I wasn’t going to leave on my own.

In the two months since, I’ve done more than I had in a long time. I completed an AI curriculum, researched, built and delivered a talk, had multiple interviews for roles I’m passionate about, and relaunched a blog I had ignored for almost six years.

It hasn’t been easy. And I don’t have everything figured out.

But I feel different.

When I looked at that old phone on the buffet, I saw exactly where I had been.

Existing.

Running on empty.

Using all my energy just to maintain something that wasn’t giving anything back.

The dark-colored phone and clear case were purely functional—they got the job done, but there was nothing inspiring about them. The PopSocket I hated but never removed? That was me being stuck. The cracked screen protector? That was my confidence. Playing it safe, holding back, just trying to get through the day.

It was no way to lead. And no way to live.

And while I didn’t want to lose my job, I choose to believe it was a blessing. I believe it was God’s plan, you may believe in the universe or some other equivalent, but I know I was removed from that situation because I wasn’t going to remove myself.

Now, I’m in a season where everything feels uncertain. I don’t know exactly what’s next. I’m building something with this blog, searching for the right opportunity, and figuring things out as I go.

I think you often know when it’s time to let go and move on. A job. A relationship. The unknown is scary. But it’s also a little exciting. And I’m choosing to revel in that.

A couple of weeks ago I was on a WhatsApp call with one of my really good friends who lives in London. She told me my light was shining. What’s funny is a mutual friend said the exact same thing to me just two days before that call. I’m not sure what I’m radiating these days but I know this:

I don’t ever want my light to be dimmed again.

If you’re in a place where everything feels drained and dull, it might not be you. It might be where you are.

My old phone served its purpose.

I’m ready for what comes next.