I got into the smartphone game a little later than most my age.

A friend was upgrading to a new iPhone and wanted to know if I would like to inherit her old one free of charge.

Most would jump at the chance, but I couldn’t bring myself to commit, and told her I would have to think it over, at which point she stared at me, puzzled.

“Umm … why? You need a new phone, and I’m giving you one. What do you need to think about exactly?”

To which I replied “You’re right, but the thing is, I know it’s going to significantly change my life.”

It was a response she was not expecting, and if anything, it added to her state of confusion.

There were images whirling through my mind of the countless times I had met up with friends for drinks, or was in a lecture at uni listening to an insightful presentation, while they would be on their phones checking Facebook, or flicking through their Instagram feed.

The lack of respect, and what I saw to be an inability – at the risk of sounding dramatic – to be ‘in the moment’, repulsed and, in all honesty, worried me, and I feared becoming one of them.

My decision process entailed presenting my conundrum to friends, and against what I now see to have been my better judgement, they each convinced me that it wasn’t the technology that was at fault, but the user, who allowed themselves to get caught up with the device and all it offered.

So in 2013, I said yes to my friend, and became the user of a smartphone. And as far as I see it, it’s basically gone downhill from there.

The humble Nokia I carried around was one thing; though I was contactable at all times as long as it was on my person, smartphones, on the other hand, are another thing altogether.

Now let’s be honest – there’s no point having such a fancy device unless you make use of its features.

As any keen traveller with friends and family abroad would agree, new (and cheaper) modes of communication are always welcome. So before I knew it, not only was I accessible via the more traditional modes of a phone call and SMS, I soon had a Skype account, WhatsApp, Viber, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and the most recent, Snapchat (come on, don’t judge. You know those filters are hilarious).

Of course I can see the merit of being connected. Social media and the internet’s immediacy and great accessibility have meant people around the world can connect and engage with global issues and raise much-needed awareness to increase knowledge and help those in need. There are also the added benefits of providing a support network for those who find themselves isolated or feeling lonely.

But like any good thing, over-use and exploitation quickly reveal a long list of negatives, many of which have led to lack of privacy and a lesser sense of autonomy than ever before.

Now I’m going to be honest, there are times that you’re going to call or text me – even if you are a very good friend – and I’m not going to answer straight away. I might be busy, I might not be. But that’s not really your concern, or anyone else’s for that matter. Yet our overwhelming connectedness and access to information has give everyone the capability of becoming a detective in their own right.

‘Oh, she didn’t answer me? Let me see if she’s been active on Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat …’ and the list goes on.

Chances are, after being at work all day the person is simply tired and wants a chance to disconnect. And yes, by ‘disconnect’ it might even ironically mean liking a few photos on Instagram.

But that doesn’t mean they’re annoyed at you, or that you’re not a priority.

Which brings me to my next point: our need to be in contact with people throughout the day.

In what now seems to be distant memory, there was a time when we wouldn’t call someone unless it was important. Once they left the house or work, without another option, we respected that they would be unavailable until we next saw them, or, in the worst case scenario, in the instance of an emergency.

But with access to our loved ones at the mere click of a button, now any little thought that passes through one’s head is deemed worthy enough of a text. Then, when in person we struggle to find things to talk about, and instead we pick up our phones and engage with that instead. Do you see the vicious cycle at play?

My 10-year high school reunion is coming up, and while I admittedly haven’t kept in actual contact with many of them, I honestly don’t feel like it’s been long enough to reunite. We all have each other on Facebook; we know whose gotten engaged, married, had kids, where they last holidayed, and even what they ate for dinner last night.

There’s no longer a sense of intrigue in the lives of others, because for many, their sense of being is now dependent on everyone having an insight into their lives and the validation of a ‘like’.

This phenomenon, of course, comes with even greater repercussions on society.

According to the fifth annual National Stress and Wellbeing in Australia Survey, Australians were faring worse in 2015 than in 2011, reporting higher levels of stress, depression and anxiety, which, surprise, surprise (not), had a strong correlation with hours spent online.

No one has yet summed it up better than US-based pastor Steven Furtick: “The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel.”

And after all the effort we put into staying connected online, technology, it seems, has made it easier than ever to hide behind a screen and cancel on real-life plans with real-life friends at the slightest sign of a headache, yawn or new series on Netflix.

But as I conclude, I realise that all this really comes down to is a lack of self-awareness, self-control, understanding and respect for ourselves and those we hold dear.

Let’s just hope we don’t all wake up one day and regret having wasted our days in front of a screen.