I remember exactly when you came into my life. I was about to start the fifth grade and my parents entrusted me to walk home by myself. They had always said that I would get a cell phone when I actually needed one and the time had finally come. This was the first time I would be truly alone, they told me. It was just "in case." I'll admit, I was pretty disappointed with you at first. Much like a lot of my clothes, you were a hand me down from my older sister. You were her first cell phone too and she was getting an upgrade.

I was so jealous of the kids at school who got brand new razor flip phones (or later on in middle school, the Envy). You didn't even flip open and were bulky. I didn't appreciate you at first. Now that I think about it, I kept you in the back pocket of my Jansport backpack and rarely took you out, except at home when you were low on battery. I didn't show you off to my friends. You didn't have games. All you had were a few contacts and the ability to call, not text. My family's plan was under Virgin Mobile, not Verizon like most of my friends. I had minutes, my parents explained, and I could only use a certain number of them. You weren't a toy or fun gadget; you were a precaution that made my parents feel better about my newfound fifteen minutes of independence.

Years later, the thought of a ten-year-old having the latest fancy (at the time) phone doesn't make much sense. I see why my parents gave me a hand me down, already out of date phone. You were not something to show off or play with. You were a safety measure and definitely one that makes sense. I didn't appreciate you then, but I do now. You represented my first sense of independence. Being trusted by my parents to walk home from school alone, or with a friend, was a bid deal. Honestly, I felt like a big shot being able to walk out of school, not having to wait for my mom or dad to pick me up. I got to cross streets and have conversations with my friends, not within earshot of someone's parents.

While being able to walk somewhere for 15 minutes definitely doesn't seem like a big deal now, it certainly was back in those days. I itched for more independence, as does any elementary schooler with a sibling five years older than them. I wanted to do what my big sister was doing. I wanted to have sleepovers and walk downtown with my friends, just like she did. While I wasn't thrilled to get her old, already out of date phone, I was pretty pleased to be able to have one. I'm not sure where that phone is now, but I know I'll never forget it.