Doing All the Things I Meant to Do Ten Years Ago

I got my driver’s license this past spring and wrote this reflection the following week: 

I finally got my driver’s license after 10-plus years spent dreaming of it. It only took two permits, $150 (each permit cost $75), and one previously failed driver’s test. I’m not as excited as I thought I’d be. Don’t get me wrong, I texted all of my friends and most of my family members within the hour of finding out (at 6 p.m. Nine hours after taking my test. I speculate this is to prevent New Yorkers from wildin’ out upon receiving their results). But deep down, having a license doesn’t feel completely real. 

Here I’ve spent all this time building an identity as a rough and tough, non-driving native New Yorker: city savvy, fast walking and rare. I was also the perpetual passenger princess, never the driver, always a rider, off the hook on road-trips and grocery runs alike. I didn’t need to drive. Except, I never could shake the fact that I had always wanted to drive. I’d been planning for it since high school–childhood, really–back when we’d imagine what car we’d drive based on how pretty it was or how popular the brand was. Over time I got complacent, distracted, nervous. I convinced myself I didn’t need it and began building this identity.

It didn’t matter so much in New York, but it was noticed in other places; “You can’t drive? Really?” And even at home from time to time, “When you gonna get your Ls, Ya?” (Ls a shorthand for license, Ya a short hand for me). I had an itch to drive that I was suppressing. I wanted the agency and freedom of it. I wanted to contribute on long trips. I wanted to finish what I’d already started. The itch got stronger. So I went for it. I totally choked on the first test; I don’t think I was ready. I practiced more the next time around. I asked my loved ones for tips. I transformed not only my skills but my confidence in them. 

 I wasn’t perfect this go around either; we’ll never really know if my evaluator let me slide on that one super wonky turn. But I did it. And now that I have this new key, opening me up to experiences I couldn’t have just a month ago, it’s kind of freaking me out.

Following congratulations, a few of my friends responded to my “I passed my road test” texts: “So where will you go?” Truth is, I have no f***ing clue. 

If a lot of that resonated but you’ve had your license for a while now, you’re probably also in the Bachelor’s Program for Adults and Transfer students. Yeah, I’m a 29-year-old who just got their driver’s license and is also an adult student. I think back and chuckle about how often and how seriously real adults tried to convince me that I would transform into a real adult the moment I turned 18. But nah, for better or for worse, I figured out how to take my sweet ass time. No regrets. I may not know exactly where I’m going yet, but as long as I’m in the driver’s seat, that’s all that matters. And as for the non-metaphorical, literal, driver’s seat, I’ll probably still opt for passenger-princess every now and again. 

The writer of this piece is happy to report that since obtaining their license in the spring, they’ve driven all over Manhattan, and parts of Brooklyn, the Bronx, and Queens. They helped drive 12 hours each way to Louisville, Kentucky. And they’ve driven to and in upstate New York, Connecticut, and Philadelphia all by themself!