Why I Made Unplug
I made Unplug because my relationship with technology changed in a way I never asked for.
After a major seizure, I became very sensitive to electronics. And when I say sensitive, I do not mean in some abstract or trendy way. I mean I could feel that my body was no longer able to move through the modern world the way it once had. Things I used to take for granted suddenly felt heavy, intrusive, and hard to tolerate.
It was frightening.
It was disorienting to realize that the same devices everybody treats as normal had started to feel overwhelming to me. There is a loneliness in that. You look around and the whole world keeps humming along like nothing is wrong, while your own nervous system is telling you a very different story.
I did not make Unplug because I wanted a new project.
I made it because I was trying to get my life back.
At first, I was just trying to survive the confusion of it all. I needed relief. I needed to understand what was making me feel worse. I needed to know whether my body was imagining things or whether it was actually asking me to pay attention in a way I never had before.
So I started removing what I could.
I stripped things back. I paid attention to what was near me, what was always on, what changed the feeling in a room, and what changed the feeling in my body. I started living more carefully, more intentionally, because I had to. Then, very slowly, I began reintroducing certain technologies one by one, trying to learn what I could handle, what I could not, and what kind of life was still possible for me.
That process was humbling.
It forced me to listen to myself more deeply than I ever had. It forced me to stop living on autopilot. It forced me to admit that a lot of what we call normal is not necessarily benign. And it forced me to grieve a little too, because there is grief in realizing that something as ordinary as the electronic world around you can suddenly feel like too much.
But there was also clarity in it.
The more I paid attention, the more I saw how much of modern life is built around constant exposure, constant stimulation, constant noise. And I started asking myself a different question. Not “How do I keep up with all of this?” but “What if keeping up is part of what is hurting us?”
That question changed me.
Unplug came out of that change.
This course is not about fear. It is not about paranoia. And it is not about pretending we can all run off into the woods and never touch a device again. I still live in the real world. I still use technology. But I use it with far more respect now, because I learned the hard way that these tools are not neutral for everyone, and that more convenience does not always mean more well-being.
Sometimes the cost is subtle.
Sometimes the cost is your calm.
Sometimes the cost is your clarity.
And sometimes the cost is your health.
I made Unplug for people who feel that something is off, even if they do not yet have the language for it. People who feel overstimulated, depleted, scattered, or physically burdened by the environments they live in. People who want a more peaceful relationship with technology, and a more honest relationship with their own body.
The point is not perfection. The point is paying attention.
The point is learning to notice.
The point is giving yourself permission to step back, remove what is not helping, and slowly reintroduce only what truly belongs.
That is what I had to do.
And that is what this course is really about.
Not just electronics. Not just exposure. Not just habits.
It is about learning how to trust yourself again when your body tells you the way you have been living is no longer working.
Because sometimes healing does not begin by adding more.
Sometimes it begins by turning things off.
If that speaks to you, you can learn more about the course here: Unplug.