Before Wi-Fi, We Had Silence

There’s an entire generation now that will never know the sound of nothing.

Not metaphorical nothing… actual, real-world silence.
Birds. A neighbor’s hose. The clinking of cutlery through an open window.
That was the soundtrack of summer if you stayed home while everyone else was “at the campsite.”
I’m 38, which means I remember life before mobile phones and internet.
When contacting someone while they were on holiday required postcards or prayers.
When a friend moved schools, you didn’t just “stay in touch”, you either made it work… or you didn’t.
When MSN and Hyves were still ideas floating in a brainstorm room.

And honestly? I miss the simplicity.
But I also remember the loneliness.

There were summers when everyone else was away.
I’d sit in the garden, hearing only the wind and wondering if silence could echo.
I had great friends, don’t get me wrong but when you’re 13 and everyone disappears for three weeks, it hits different.
Especially if you’re not the kind of kid who thrives in groups.
I was more of a “one-on-one in the shade” kind of child.
(Still am, really.)

I think people often assume the world is scarier now.
But maybe it always was, we just didn’t have push notifications to prove it.
Crimes happened, we just didn’t hear about them on five platforms before 9 a.m.

And sure, tech has made our world bigger.
But it’s also made it harder to disappear for a while without feeling like you’re failing at something.
Sometimes, I envy the version of me who could have a full-blown adolescent meltdown without the risk of it being filmed.
There were no stories. No reels. Just memories, mostly blurry.
(Thank god.)

But here’s the thing no one talks about:
That weird in-between age when you’re old enough to feel disconnected, but not old enough to understand why.
When your friends are out partying and your gut says “nope,” but your FOMO says “liar.”
When you make up silly excuses for skipping things because “I can’t come” sounds easier than “I’m anxious and probably going to cry.”

Was I lonely? Not exactly.
But there was a kind of quiet ache.
The kind you only really notice once you’ve learned what noise can cover.

Now? I still crave silence.
But I want it in the middle of a bustling city.
I want the option to be alone, but not isolated.
To disappear into the crowd and stay right there, hidden in plain sight.
I think that’s what I was missing all along…
not connection, but the choice.

And honestly? Social media has helped.
I can reach my people with a tap.
I no longer need to cycle three towns over to say “hey.”
I’ve had nightmares where I couldn’t reach someone, where I’d try to text but my phone just… wouldn’t type.
And let me tell you, the 90s had it right: no phone, no help, just vibes and a landline.

So no, this isn’t an anti-technology rant.
It’s a quiet thank-you.
To the before-times, for showing me what I value now.
And to now, for letting me carry those values forward,
just with better Wi-Fi.

– Sophie Quinn