License to Thrive

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I got my driver’s license at 36 years old.

I grew up close enough to New York City that having a driver’s license never felt like a necessity. My journey without wheels began in high school. I was a straight-A student who managed to receive my worst grades in gym and driver’s ed. I didn’t have to learn because I didn’t need to learn: that’s pragmatism.

I didn’t take it seriously.

When I was 17, I had a driving instructor who made me deeply uncomfortable. I was in a car with an adult man who would lotion his hands and cover his face whenever police cars with their sirens on drove past us.

My anxiety around driving started there, maybe because driving became associated with feeling trapped in a car with someone I didn’t trust, not trusting the other drivers on the road, and not trusting myself to handle the responsibility of wielding the power of a combustion engine.

This was not in New Jersey. Because in NJ we don’t pump gas, we pump our fists.

My dad and brother bravely attempted to teach me.

One day, I ended up going stag on New York State Route 32, driving on the left side of the road. I temporarily forgot which country I was in, or even which planet. I’m an astronaut without formal training. I space out a lot. At 22, I failed the driver’s test because I crept toward a truck that had stopped in front of me.

It’s not that I was incapable. I was just afraid.

Yet I was also resourceful.

I navigated the world on my own two feet, by bike, and by public transportation while living in Philly, Austin, and New York. Shoutout to the MTA, Amtrak, NJ Transit, SEPTA, Megabus, Citi Bike, and Indego for getting me around.

Wear a helmet and protect your noggin.

The rise of ride shares in the 2010s was also very helpful even though I rode them at great personal financial expense.

There are some upsides: not driving for many years means that my net lifetime carbon footprint is considerably low. I also earned the status of being a Passenger Princess™

Then last year, my mindset changed. I received a bonus from work and started thinking about what I might do with the money. Here was the sequence of my mental process:

Should I buy an e-bike? No… my last bike was stolen.

Maybe a motorcycle? Wait. I don’t even have my driver’s license.

:: AN EPIPHANY ::

Wait… I should totally get my driver’s license!!!

Perhaps that thought should have occurred to me a little earlier. Like, 20 years ago.

So I tried again.

My instructor’s name was Adrian. The moment we met, he handed me the keys before we even shook hands.

I was shocked.

You’re really going to let me operate this potentially life-threatening vehicle?

He didn’t just casually hand me his keys. He handed me his trust.

He didn’t make me feel incapable; he didn’t rush me. He didn’t make me feel like my anxiety was an inconvenience. Of course, I had so many questions and he was probably annoyed by most of them but he stayed calm the entire time. After all, he was paid to do that.

When I took my road test, I talked out loud through most of it, narrating what I was doing. While parallel parking, I realized I wasn’t close enough to the curb, so I explained my strategy for how I would turn the wheel to get closer to it.

I had mastered the knowledge and it was time to demonstrate that I had mastered the machinery. The instructor nodded approvingly and I cruised through the rest of the test.

When I found out I passed, I cried tears of joy.

I had accomplished something I had spent two decades believing I couldn’t do because of my own fears. That is the power of a growth mindset: not believing that every obstacle has an easy solution and not pretending fear doesn’t exist, but being willing to ask: What if I can learn this?

Fear can be worked through with faith in yourself, the right teacher, personal readiness, perseverance, and a willingness to keep trying.

I had to be honest with myself about the story I had been telling. It wasn’t: I don’t need this. Underneath it was: I’m scared to try.

This gives me a chuckle: I’ve had my driver’s license for more than a year now but I haven’t driven since the day I took the test. I have never driven on a highway. I have never even crossed a bridge.

But you know what? I learned how to drive in Manhattan. I feel confident that I’m ready to face anything: pedestrians popping out of nowhere, swerving bikers, cars that don’t follow the signs, double-parked delivery trucks, erratic taxis. I am unstoppable. Nothing can hold me back. Except red lights and stop signs, obvi.

To everyone who ever drove me somewhere during my 20 year reign as a Passenger Princess™: thank you from the depths of my heart; for picking me up, dropping me off, and waiting patiently. Especially you, Mom <3

That could be another lesson: we don’t get anywhere entirely by ourselves. We could be behind the wheel or in the passenger’s seat but what matters most is who’s by your side.

There’s plenty left for me to learn and goals to conquer in this life. I don’t know how to change a tire or how to bake a soufflé but I bet I could if I studied the instruction manual and followed the recipe.

I won’t define myself by the things I haven’t done yet.

I’m here to enjoy the ride cuz I got places to go and people to see.