cassandra-neo

It has been nearly five months since I initially embarked on a mission to simplify my digital life as much as possible. To create a minimalistic environment that would no longer overwhelm every facet of my existence.

Nothing prepared me for how difficult this challenge would actually become.

The eternal syncing of information between the apps that I utilize, and third party apps that I do NOT utilize, but have unknowingly shared all of my data with, continues to flow through my life, both personally and professionally.

It is a mess. A complete and utter mess. Unless you have been in a coma for the last 30 years and are just waking up and getting started with your first smart phone, your digital life is a mess too. A wreckage.

A new discovery has cropped up for me in the past few weeks, and it’s one that I really didn’t want to know about. Unfortunately, this knowledge is coming to me organically, as I move through the process of desperately attempting to secure my digital privacy and take back the rights to my own personal data.

This last year, I found myself unexpectedly unemployed for four months. I did not have adequate savings to carry me through this transitory period, and as a result, I was forced to cash out an IRA, borrow from my parents, and rack up debt on a few different credit cards.

The one bill that I absolutely refuse to ever be late on, is my mortgage. Nearly a decade ago, I received some strongly worded advice from my father, who instructed me to never let the shelter over my head be threatened. We pay our shelter costs first and foremost, even before food or transportation. Always.

And so, during those four to five months without an income, my mortgage was paid on time each month like clockwork. I provided no information whatsoever to my lender that I was temporarily unemployed and without income. In the eyes of my mortgage company, I continued to be a responsible, model consumer and debtor.

During the last month of my unemployment, sacrifices had to be made. I had already cut costs as much as possible, and although I was able to pay my mortgage and utilities, I came to the conclusion that I would need to skip one month of credit card payments. For the first time in my life.

On the very first day that the first card was due (even before my payment was late), the credit card company was calling and emailing me. Repeatedly. I ignored them. What else was there to do? I had secured a job, knew when I was scheduled to be paid, and was aware that I would be paying my credit cards a month late. But after that first due date, and the incessant calls, emails and texts from that first creditor, the rest of my creditors joined in.

Before the due dates had even arrived for the remaining cards, those companies (for the first time in the history of ever), had joined in on the mission to get a hold of me. For what? For why? I had always paid them on time. Why were they proactively reaching out to me now?

Then, my mortgage company began calling. Why?? I had paid THEM every month on time, as I always have. They started leaving messages asking if I had experienced a change in my financial situation, and if I was interested in refinancing. (My interest rate is 3.5%, which I would assume you have on file, so no, old buddy, I don’t want to refinance.)

Then, the realtors and mortgage brokers set in. “Are you interested in selling? Do you need to downsize?”

As these solicitations continued, relentlessly and endlessly, I began to notice the pattern. When I did receive deposits into my online checking account (one that I have held for several decades), the calls from my creditors increased. “Can you make a payment now? What about now?”

I began to realize what was happening.

Certainly, due to the fact that my credit card companies had begun to report late payments to the credit bureaus, the information was being shared with all of my creditors. And they were all doing the work of proactive due diligence. Even my mortgage lender, who I was in good standing with, and had always been in good standing with.

Somehow, they were all receiving financial information from my own fucking bank as well.

Who even knows how many privacy policies I agreed to without reading through the terms and conditions. (Because why would I? It’s not like I can opt out.) And now that I actually have read through the privacy agreements of countless different platforms and applications, I understand. I get it.

Privacy is an illusion. Even in regard to your own financial information. Even in regard to your own health information. Your own body. Your religion. Your beliefs. Your morality. Your family. Your parenting philosophies.

We are all in a synced, chokehold of complete and utter control.

And there is no escape.