Woman Installs a Landline So Only Her ‘Favorite People’ Can Call Her

Mariah Houghton’s phone rarely rings — but when it does, it’s always someone who truly matters. Inside her cozy New York brownstone, a cream-colored landline rests quietly on a wooden side table, offering a rare sense of calm in a world that never stops buzzing.

“I work on my cell phone — I do social media management for clients and influencing and stuff like that,” Houghton says.

When she moved into the historic apartment about a year ago, she knew immediately she wanted a home phone. “I work on my phone all day, and to me, conversations — especially with the people who have my home number — are sacred,” she explains.

The viral TikTok Houghton (@mariah.houghton) posted, captioned “why are landlines so healing #nostalgia,” resonated deeply online, reminding people of a time when connection came one ring at a time.

For her, the landline isn’t about nostalgia — it’s about boundaries and presence. “I believe that real relationships require conversation,” she says. “I found myself constantly multitasking — checking emails, scrolling Pinterest — even while talking to my mom. But with the landline, I literally can’t move. It’s not even wireless. I have to sit still and make a conscious choice to slow down.”

Only a select few have her home phone number. “I picked my top five people — my parents, my sister, and my three best friends,” she says. “I wanted to know that when the phone rang, I’d be excited to answer. There’s no caller ID, so I drop everything when it rings. Hopefully the people who don’t have the number don’t feel bad about that,” she laughs.

Growing up, Houghton remembers that familiar ring as something special. “I was born in ’96, but my older cousins and I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house — they had late ’80s, early ’90s tech everywhere,” she recalls. “The sound of the phone meant someone important was calling — my dad from out of town, my mom, family. My cousins and I would call dibs on who got to answer.”

As she got older, that simple sound stuck with her. “We had a wireless phone later with caller ID, but I still remember memorizing everyone’s numbers — my mom and I still know them,” she says. “There was something thrilling about not knowing who was calling. Now, it’s just another part of life.”

That sense of presence has become her form of self-care. “I tend to multitask, but with the landline, I have to stop,” she says. “It reminds me to give my full attention to one thing. It’s healing — I get so excited when it rings.”

Her video struck a chord because of its simplicity. “Sometimes convenience kills connection,” she says. “I want to be intentional about what matters to me.”

That same intention flows through her home. “I keep a paper planner, photo albums — things that remind me who I am,” she adds. “I even hope my kids collect DVDs someday. There’s something grounding about holding memories instead of just scrolling through them.”

Her loved ones weren’t surprised by her decision. “They said, ‘Of course you’d get a landline,’” she laughs. “Now, they call my home phone during certain hours and my cell at others. My sister knows when I need space — she’ll just call the house phone.”

It’s a comfort that keeps her calm. “I can be an anxious person, so knowing I can still be reached brings me peace,” she says.

When her TikTok started blowing up, she didn’t think much of it. “Working in social media, you just post and see what sticks,” she says. “I came back to all these notifications and realized people really connected with it. I think it touched something — a longing for the tangible, for real connection.”

For Houghton, healing often comes from holding on to the physical. “Why does seeing a kid open a DVD or VHS make me emotional?” she wonders. “I think it’s the inner child in us — wanting something real, something you can hold. We don’t always have the words for that.”

That’s what she hopes others take from her story. “I want people to enjoy the convenience of their phones but not rely on them so much that they forget life outside the screen,” she says. “It’s not about rejecting technology — it’s about remembering there’s beauty beyond it.”

And yes, she plans to keep her landline forever. “I want my kids to grow up with it,” she says. “It might not be the phone for everyone — maybe it’s writing letters or keeping photo albums — but having something that grounds you, something off-screen, is so healing. It makes you feel real. It makes you feel connected.”