How the Notes in Our Phone Might Be a New Personality Test

At first glance, I’m either a creative genius or in need of some serious help.

Photo by @timmossholder

Notes with mystery.

I didn’t realize the Notes section on one’s iPhone can tell quite a story about the inside of a person’s head. Recently, when I was scrolling through mine to find a very important list of recommended television shows, I got a little worried because some of my Note titles made me seem a bit, er, unhinged. But the longer I scrolled interesting patterns emerged.

One such pattern, I’ll call the Mystery Notes, was the presence of only a title followed by “No additional Text.”

“Watch out for falling toilets.” No additional text. Something I read in a book? Heard on a podcast? Title for a Shel Silverstein-esque poem? No context. No supporting sentences. Just, “No Additional Text.”

Another one. “Is road rage genetic?”

Or this, “It just dawned on me…I really hate summer.”

And my personal favorite, “Covid vodka.” Also “no additional text.”

Vulnerable human?

Some of my notes were more developed around a specific theme. A number of them, more than I’d like to admit, centered around my weight journey, the ongoing struggle, and related shame of it all. I was dumbstruck at the sheer volume of Notes about food logs, feelings about the food logs, musings on how to be free from the weight issue, and things I’ve tried to lose weight (a sad Note that ended with two words. Throwing Up.)

Some titles in this category, however, were poetic. “The weight clings to me like a free climber on the side of Half Dome.” Some titles were optimistic like “This body is my home.” No additional text.

I’m not the only one wondering about this.

On a whim, I decided to Google if other people are wondering what Notes tell us about ourselves, and freelance writer Jessica Burrell delivered. In her 2021 article “What Do the Notes in Your Phone Say About You?” for the UK-based site Buro, Burrell suggests there are “eight iPhone Note Archetypes” from “The Recommendation Hoarder” to “The Infrequent Diarist.”

One archetype with which I closely identified was “the closet poet.” Burrell writes,

“One day, you’ll write them all out in a Word Doc, but for now, your poetry is confined to notes. The app affords a privacy your Moleskine never quite could, although you’re actually thinking of starting a poetry Instagram account soon.”

I just replaced “poetry” for “creative nonfiction” and this is all me.

Creative genius?

I fancy myself a David Sedaris disciple who has modernized his practice of carrying a small notebook and pen by using my iPhone. (And yes, I understand this interpretation of his practice might make me decidedly not one of his disciples. It’s close enough for me.)

In my notes, I found dozens of essay drafts in between my password reminders and Christmas lists for 2020, 2021, and 2022. Drafts I might bring out of the closet soon.

Responsible Adult?

Some of my notes are very practical such as the one titled, “Alcohol Reminder,” a note I reference from time to time. This Note includes a list of symptoms I feel when I drink too much, generally more than one or two glasses of wine or martinis in a night. Last year I ended up writing myself a note because I kept forgetting how lousy I feel after more than two drinks.

The Alcohol Reminder note helped because now I order a large bottle of sparkling water when I go out with friends or I bring one with me to dinner parties which I drink before, in between, and after my two drinks for the night. The bubbles also trick my brain into thinking I’m enjoying another cocktail. And yes, I have to trick my brain. And leave myself a Note about it on my phone.

There are also very practical notes, ones that might fall under Burrell’s category of “the eternal list maker.” These lists include names of the parents I meet on the sidelines of baseball games, lists of my sons’ constantly changing pants sizes, and types of wines I tried somewhere and want to remember.

Favorite Aunt?

And some Notes I will never, ever delete such as the one typed by my eleven-year-old niece when she was riding in my car and we played the license plate game on a big California freeway. When she handed me my phone after the drive, I read the Note.

Title: “License Plates.” Arizona 1. Idaho 1. Nevada 1. Virginia 1. Florida 1. California 1000000000000000000.

After all the scrolling, I’m still a little fuzzy about what this says about me. I’m leaning towards Creative Genius, Struggling Human, Can’t Live Without Lists. And this exercise got me thinking about what other people’s Notes say about them.

If you have a free moment in the upcoming week or a bathroom break in the middle of your work day, scroll through the Notes on your phone. What do they say about you?