The Tiny Tyrant Inside My Phone

It was 8.30 a.m. and my phone wouldn’t stop pinging. The messages were about confirming weekend plans. Here I was, trying very hard to build a health-conscious image by practicing yoga, and my friends clearly had other plans for me.

I quickly got off the mat and messaged the group:
“Doing Yoga. Will respond when done.”

Less than a minute later, I received a group audio call.

What the hell?

I looked at my message again to make sure it had gone through properly. That is when I saw what the little menace inside my phone had done.

Auto-correct had very conveniently changed:
“Doing Yoga”
to
“Doing Vodka.”

I answered the call to uncontrollable laughter and immediately shouted,
“That was an accidental confession! Courtesy of the overconfidence of auto-correct on my phone.”

Not sure how many believed me.

The other day, an innocent message of mine turned rather disastrous.

I finally reconnected with an old friend of mine and we spoke for hours that evoked nostalgia and warmth.

After the call, I messaged her,
“Love you dear”
and the nuisance in my phone that’s always waiting to strike, changed the text to:
“Love you dead.”

OMG. I froze.

Even before I could correct it, I saw the blue ticks.

I quickly called her and apologized for the auto-correct mistake. I’m not sure it went well because I haven’t heard from her since.

“Auto-correct,” this highly opinionated life form living inside my phone works tirelessly behind the scenes. The irritating thing is not that auto-correct makes mistakes. Humans make mistakes too. The annoying aspect is the confidence with which it replaces my carefully typed words as if it has a PhD in my personal thoughts.

No hesitation. No humility.
I could scream.

It is hard enough dealing with people who have different opinions and now I have an automated form that can go completely wrong and yet radiate confidence. At times, it even edits my personality and damages my reputation.

I already have overenthusiastic friends and relatives who interrupt before hearing the full sentence. Now I also have to manage this dictator that changes perfect words with absolute certainty while ignoring the mistakes I actually need help with.

I will admit that auto-correct errors also sprinkle laughter into my conversations. Though not always.

I was venting to a friend about the pressure at work and messaged her saying,
“My boss can squeeze every ounce of blood out of me.”

I got a response with laughter emojis that read, ” I am glad we had the chat because now your situation sounds less painful and more carb-related.”

What?

Of course! Auto-correct changed my message to read:
“My boss can squeeze every ounce of bread out of me.”

I had to laugh too.

One particularly embarrassing incident happened in my building WhatsApp group.

Trying to be a responsible resident, I messaged the group:
“Lift not working.”

The little devil in my phone couldn’t wait to ruin my life.

Auto-correct promptly got into action and changed it to:
“Life not working.”

There was complete silence in the group. Residents didn’t know how to respond. Nor did I for a brief moment.

I had to act fast.

I once again profusely apologized for the auto-correct error and basically said, that this feature has taken over my life and we now live in constant negotiation.

I could feel a sense of relief from all the residents when I was flooded with messages almost immediately with smiling emojis.

Fortunately, my children understand my technology struggles and disasters. Their responses to my auto-correct messages are witty.

It’s happened a couple of times.  It doesn’t even spare my children. Probably nothing better to do and goes all out for the kill.

“Bless you honey” to “Blast you honey”
Ma, your affection sounds like a threat

 and

“Going for walk” to “Going for war.”
Ma, with whom? Should security be informed?

There was one instance that truly horrified me. It wasn’t with the children but my guests.

I was running late, stuck in traffic, and my guests were already home. I frantically messaged my guests saying, “I am stuck in traffic. Will reach soon. Please make yourselves comfortable.”

Auto-correct jumped once again to sabotage and this completely destroyed the hospitable image I had built over the years.

The message to them read:
“Please make yourselves combustible”
instead of
“Please make yourselves comfortable.”

How do I explain that I didn’t mean they are burning my life down?

I miss the days when I grew up writing inland letters carefully in ink. One spelling mistake required crossing out the whole sentence. That embarrassment somehow felt simpler than today’s world where auto-correct behaves like an unsupervised bully living inside my phone. It ruins perfectly normal messages and moves on as if nothing happened.

Worse still, it permanently remembers the one typo I made in 2021 at 1 am.

I have experienced many more auto-correct disasters over the years, and I am slowly learning to live with them. At this point, every message I send feels like a collaboration between me and auto-correct.

So now, before pressing send, I pause and reassure myself:

I typed carefully.
I checked spelling.
I knew exactly what I meant.

Somewhere inside my phone, auto-correct is probably reading this article and preparing revenge.

My daughter recently informed me that I can actually switch auto-correct off. But after all the confusion, embarrassment, and accidental confessions it has caused, I feel strangely attached to the little troublemaker.

It has ruined several of my messages, but at least it has given me material to write about.

Oops… “material” just became “melodrama.”

Not entirely inaccurate.