What if the secret to a healthier, more connected family life isn’t resisting technology, but rediscovering the simple joys of the world beyond it? When stepping into the role of a soon-to-be stepfather to my fiancée’s 11-year-old daughter, I entered a home where screens had become the dominant pastime. Her room was cluttered, her attention fragmented and her relationships were mainly digital — through Roblox, YouTube and the next viral trend. At first, the signs of strain were subtle. She was often tired, struggled to focus and her emotional responses seemed out of proportion, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. I began to wonder how much of her turmoil was shaped by the constant flood of digital stimuli.

Research confirms these concerns. Over 60% of U.S. parents report that their children face emotional regulation issues, sleep disturbances and attention problems due to excessive screen time. The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends no more than two hours of recreational screen time per day, but this guideline is rarely followed. In a culture where the average child now spends six to nine hours on screens, the consequences are glaring: poor sleep, reduced physical activity and emotional dysregulation.

Determined to make a change, my fiancée and I introduced limits: one hour of screen time on school nights and two on weekends. At first, there were protests. “Just five more minutes!” she’d plead. But we stood firm, carving out time for offline activities.

The first of these new rituals was letter-writing. Encouraging her to write letters to figures who inspired her — like Kheris Rogers, the 15-year-old fashion designer behind the Flexin’ In My Complexion clothing line, or Reyna Vallandingham, a world champion in tae kwon do — gave her a chance to express herself thoughtfully. It wasn’t just the act of writing but the slowness of it that was restorative. It became a small but meaningful rebellion against the rapid-fire consumption of digital content, helping her reconnect with a more grounded version of herself.

Next, we embraced the slow, strategic pace of chess. Initially dismissed as “boring,” chess eventually became a cherished ritual. The game allowed for uninterrupted connection, deepening conversations and fostering patience. It wasn’t about winning but about thinking critically, being present and embracing the strategic pace of the game.

Physical activity also became central to our routine. We signed up for 5K races, and she took to running with an enthusiasm I hadn’t expected. What started as a casual endeavor turned into something more meaningful — a shared experience of mutual encouragement. She also earned her orange belt in tae kwon do, a milestone that demonstrated her growing discipline and resilience. These activities not only improved her fitness but changed how she interacted with the world. Her mood, focus and emotional health all began to improve.

The transformation was profound. The irritability that once defined our interactions began to fade. She became more present, more focused and emotionally regulated. As a family, we noticed not just a decrease in screen time but a noticeable improvement in her overall well-being. We were finally experiencing the deeper connection I had hoped for — one that wasn’t filtered through a screen.

The American Psychological Association underscores the importance of limiting screen time for healthy cognitive development and emotional regulation. Engaging in physical activity and creative pursuits helps children build resilience, improve focus and develop emotional intelligence — qualities that have become increasingly apparent in her.

This struggle is far from unique. Across Albuquerque, parents face similar challenges. Groups like Parenting NM and Albuquerque Parents of Teens regularly hold discussions on healthy screen time boundaries. Local churches have hosted screenings of “Screenagers,” a documentary exploring the effects of excessive screen time, followed by discussions to help families navigate these issues. These resources are invaluable for parents striving to create healthier, more balanced environments for their children.

Ultimately, the solution isn’t about eliminating screens altogether but about finding a thoughtful balance. By setting limits, fostering offline hobbies and nurturing real-world connections, we can help children thrive in an increasingly digital world. As Oscar Wilde once said, “The best way to make children good is to make them happy.” And perhaps the best way to make them happy is to help them rediscover the joy of connection — away from the distractions of the screen.

Alex Lavidge is a writer, entrepreneur, global traveler and health enthusiast based in Rio Rancho with a passion for exploring the intersection of culture, wellness, community and sustainability. He is currently director of membership at Sports & Wellness Highpoint, a fitness club for families in Albuquerque’s Northeast Heights.