The day preordered Apple Vision Pros were being delivered, I texted my boyfriend about an hour after his messages abruptly stopped. We were both at home, working remotely, so I knew he had his phone nearby. But I also knew he was anxiously waiting for the headset to arrive. “Oh no, have I lost you to the Vision Pro already?” I joked. Ten minutes later, I received a reply: “Yes, you did.”
When he first ordered the Vision Pro back in February, I didn’t think much of it. I jokingly call him an Apple fanboy because he’s always quick to buy the latest Apple gadgets as soon as they hit the market. He uses the iPhone 15 Pro as his main phone, the Apple Watch Ultra for fitness tracking, a 24-inch iMac for working from home, and a 14-inch MacBook Pro for travel. Given his history with Apple products, it was no surprise that he was eager to get his hands on what many consider Apple’s most exciting product in years. But I never thought it would have much of an impact on our lives—both virtually and in person.
A New Kind of Technology Presence
Apple devices have always been a natural part of our lives, making it easier to communicate and stay connected. We chat through iMessage, use FaceTime for video calls, and even watch movies together using SharePlay when we’re apart. We track each other’s fitness progress with Apple Watches and share profiles on each other’s iMac and Apple TV. These devices blend into our routine seamlessly, never disrupting our interactions. But the Vision Pro has been different.
Since it arrived, the Vision Pro has become a constant companion to my boyfriend, almost as if it’s part of his everyday carry. He takes it with him everywhere, packing it in his bag along with his MacBook Pro, and it’s never far from reach when we’re at home. But the biggest difference is how unpredictable it is. It doesn’t give off the same cues as other devices. One minute he’s sitting on the couch, working on his laptop, and the next minute, without warning, the Vision Pro is on his face. It doesn’t make any noise, and the speakers are so close to the ears that I can’t tell when he’s listening to something.
On one occasion, I turned around to ask him a question, and the Vision Pro had already taken over. He was editing a YouTube Short in Final Cut Pro, waving his hands in the air, interacting with invisible objects. Meanwhile, his laptop screen remained blank. It was a surreal moment—watching him control things that only he could see. And it’s something I’ve had to get used to. Vision Pro’s EyeSight feature, which displays the wearer’s eyes so others know when they’re looking at you, isn’t always as obvious as it should be. Sometimes I can’t tell whether he’s looking at me or focused on something in his virtual environment.
The Challenges of Sharing the Vision Pro Experience
The Vision Pro is a cutting-edge device, but sharing the experience has been tricky. Whenever I want to try it, I have to log in to Guest Mode, which means going through the 90-second calibration process every single time. And because I wear glasses, Apple suggests buying custom Zeiss Optical Inserts, which would cost me an additional $150. Since I’m unwilling to make that purchase, I try using the headset with my glasses on, but the eye-tracking doesn’t always work perfectly.
Even watching a movie together has been difficult. We tried using AirPlay to watch Mean Girls, but due to copyright restrictions, the movie was blacked out on both the Vision Pro and the TV. We also tried playing a game like Fruit Ninja on the big screen, but the fun didn’t last long. Switching between his profile and Guest Mode every time we wanted to take turns became tedious.
Feeling Isolated
The most surprising effect of the Vision Pro is the sense of isolation it creates, even when we’re in the same room. Sometimes, I’ll find him sitting on the couch, staring into the distance with the Vision Pro firmly on his head. One night, after brushing my teeth before bed, I walked into the living room and found him playing a virtual game of chess. He was silently moving invisible pieces with his fingers while I sat next to him, unsure of how to engage. Moments like this make me feel like there’s a huge barrier between us, even though we’re physically close.
FaceTime calls have also become awkward. When he uses his digital “persona”—an animated avatar of himself—it feels strange to be the only human in the call. His avatar doesn’t quite capture the quickness of facial expressions, making it hard to tell if he’s smiling, laughing, or frowning. It’s also weird to watch the avatar pretend to sip from an invisible water bottle or eat food that isn’t there.
Life Before Vision Pro
Despite all the excitement surrounding Vision Pro, I’ve noticed the novelty starting to wear off. On a recent flight to Florida, I fully expected him to bring the headset along for entertainment during the three-hour flight. But to my surprise, it wasn’t in his bag. “I didn’t have room for it,” he said. And for the first time in a while, we spent time together without the Vision Pro looming over us. We watched a movie, took naps, and enjoyed staring out the airplane window—just like old times.
This experience reminded me of life before Vision Pro, a time when our interactions were simpler and more natural. There’s a part of me that misses those moments, and I think he does too. While the Vision Pro is undoubtedly an impressive device, it’s also a reminder that technology can sometimes create distance instead of bringing us closer.
Conclusion: Living with Apple Vision Pro has been an unexpected journey. While it’s a marvel of technology and innovation, it has also introduced new challenges in communication and interaction. For me, the headset feels more like a barrier than a bridge, disrupting the natural flow of our relationship. As advanced as it is, sometimes the simplest moments without technology are the ones we cherish the most.